


Into the Light

by Wincesteriffic Kaz (Disasteriffic_Kaz)



Series: By Your Command [10]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, BDSM, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Bottom Sam, Case Fic, Cock Rings, Dom Dean, Dom/sub, Established Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Flogging, Foursome - M/M/M/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Orgasm Delay, Rape/Non-con Elements, Spanking, Sub Sam, Top Dean, Wincest - Freeform, sub sharing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-23
Updated: 2015-10-10
Packaged: 2018-04-23 00:14:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 71,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4855952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Disasteriffic_Kaz/pseuds/Wincesteriffic%20Kaz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sexy just got scary. The owners of the boys' favorite BDSM club call for a little support and what should be a deliciously naughty vacation for all concerned becomes something much darker and deadly. Hurt/Comfort/Angst and oh yes, Dom!Dean, Sub!Sam and an energetic foursome. Dean/Sam 10th in the 'BYC Verse'</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: Note that if you have not read the previous stories "Break Me Down" and "Blood Song", you won't know who Steve and Joe are or understand at first why our boys care about them so much. Go. Read. Why would you want to miss so much impressive, public naughty anyway? :P
> 
> Graphic depictions within. Beta'd by the always awesome JaniceC678
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own 'em but if I did, they'd never get dressed.
> 
> ~Reviews are love~

 

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_**Chapter 1** _

Dean leaned back against the wide bole of a tree and tossed his Zippo from hand to hand. "You almost done?" he asked with a smirk.

Sam turned around to glare at his brother and held up his bloody hand axe. "Unless you want to give me a hand, jackass."

"Nope," Dean said happily. "You lost the toss, bitch. Get choppin'."

"Jerk," Sam grumbled and went back to his grizzly work hacking apart the bloody bones. He'd have been perfectly happy frying the thing in one piece, but it would burn better dismembered. He turned and finished chopping off the thing's other arm, kicking it toward one of the piles.

Dean chuckled and pulled his phone out when it started to ring. "Dean's morgue. You stab 'em, we slab 'em. What can I do ya' for?" He grinned at his little brother's disgusted look and then his brows flew up in surprise. "Steve? Hey!" He saw an answering smile of surprise on Sam's face. It had been a few months since they'd been near enough to see Steve and his partner Joe and enjoy showing off at their underground BDSM club.

"Dean! How are you and Sam?" Steve asked.

"We're great. Just finishing up a, uh... hunting trip right now." Dean shrugged when Sam snorted. He couldn't very well tell Steve what they were actually doing. The man and his partner had no idea what they actually did for a living, and Dean was definitely planning on keeping it that way. "You know, we were just talking about you guys the other day and thinking about swinging down your way for a visit." It was the truth. They had been. They had both started to miss being able to enjoy each other publicly like they could at the club without fear of repercussions or someone they knew outing them as brothers. Plus, the club had all the coolest toys. Living out of a car had its disadvantages in terms how much... stuff you could actually keep on hand, although Dean had found some very creative uses for much of the truly necessary monster-hunting equipment they did keep in the trunk. Still, it was definitely fun to get a chance to play with the real things sometimes.

"We were hoping you were somewhere nearby. Joe and I are opening the club in a new location, and we thought maybe you two could come help us christen it." Steve's voice sounded odd and Dean frowned.

"Steve? What's going on?" Dean waved a hand when Sam set the axe down and came over.

"Is he alright? Is Joe?" Sam asked worriedly.

"We're fine, Dean," Steve reassured him easily and then sighed. "The club though... well. Some irate townies found out what the club actually is and they sort of burned it to the ground last month."

"Holy shit!" Dean exclaimed and looked at Sam. "Someone burned down the club a month ago." He jerked away when Sam reached for the phone. "Dude, no way. Go clean your hands."

Sam looked at his bloody fingers and rolled his eyes. "Fine. Just make sure they're ok."

"Ya' think?" Dean put the phone back to his ear. "Was anyone hurt? You sure you guys are alright?" A wave of anger flowed through him toward whoever would endanger their friends. "What can we do?"

"Really, just you two being here would be enough." Steve smiled and Dean could hear it in his voice and relaxed a little. "You know we don't really know what you guys do for a living, but you've always struck us as, well, capable. And we both think we'd feel better if you two came and had a look at the new place, maybe let us know if it's secure enough, or... things or... shit. I don't know."

"Hey, don't worry about it." Dean tossed his Zippo to his brother and pointed to what was left of the creature in a silent order to finish it. "We'll be there. Give us two days. Where do we meet you?" He listened, committing the address and directions to memory and ended the call as the creature's remains burst into flame, lighting up the night. "I think they just want the company."

"I don't blame them." Sam came over, wiping the last of the creature's blood from his hands with a rag and leaned against his brother's shoulder. "Were they hurt?"

"He says no, but they're rattled." Dean put his phone away and slid his arms around Sam's waist, resting his forehead against his brother's. "Is it bad that I want to find the fuckers who burned it down and torch them?"

"No." Sam tightened his arms around Dean and slid their mouths together in a silent plea for comfort. It was one thing to know clinically that people like them were persecuted and sometimes treated with violence, just for being gay and different. It was another thing entirely to have it hit so close to home. He knew Steve and Joe both lived at the club. If things had gone differently, they could have been injured or killed. It both frightened and angered him.

"I got you, Sammy," Dean whispered into his brother's lips. He fisted a hand in the back of Sam's hair and kissed him until they were both panting and finally parted their mouths to let them catch their breaths. "Let's go check on our boys."

Sam smiled and nodded. They had only spent time with them in person on a few occasions, but had spent many more hours on the phone with one or both, discussing their lifestyle and often seeking advice which the two club owners were only too happy to give. Steve and Joe already felt like family to him, to them both. They would do whatever they could to make sure they were kept safe from now on. "Let's pack up and get on the road."

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Dean parked outside the Starry Night hotel and climbed out of the Impala just as the door to room fourteen opened. He smiled when Steve's blonde head appeared. "Hey, Steve."

"Dean." Steve shamelessly crossed the sidewalk and wrapped the slightly taller man in a hug before he could protest. "It is damn good to see you."

Dean chuckled and returned the embrace, surprised, before Steve finally moved back. "Good to see you too."

"Where's Sam?" Steve asked and leaned around Dean. His face dissolved into a fond smile when he saw the taller man in the passenger seat, asleep with his head hanging over the back of the seat. "Long drive?"

"Yeah. We only stopped once. I'll wake him up. Where's Joe?" Dean walked around and opened the passenger door.

"Sleeping." Steve scrubbed a hand over his face. "I wasn't exactly honest. He got a little banged up when the house went. A support beam landed on him, but he's fine I swear. Just some bruises and a concussion. The stress, though... he wasn't sleeping for a couple weeks. He's on Xanax at the moment. Puts him out like a light for eight straight."

"Jesus," Dean shook his head and leaned in to wake up his brother. "Sammy. We're here."

Sam jerked awake and saw they had stopped and Steve was standing beside his brother. He grinned and unfolded himself from the car. He didn't say anything but simply went to Steve, leaned down and pulled the man into a tight hug. "I'm glad you're alright, man."

Steve blew out a breath and let Sam squeeze the breath out of him. He chuckled and smiled when Sam released him. "I am really glad you two could come. I got you the room next to ours."

"Joe?" Sam asked worriedly.

Steve smiled and patted his arm. "Asleep. He's fine. Come on. You guys have to be wrecked. You can get some sleep and we'll head out to the new place tomorrow. Sound good?"

"Sounds awesome." Dean went to the trunk and pulled their bags out, tossing Sam's to him. "We want to know what happened tomorrow."

"Over breakfast," Steve promised.

Sam followed his brother into the room with a last smile for Steve. He set his bag on the dresser and gave another smile for the king size bed. He shrugged off his jacket, tossing it over a chair and sucked in a breath when Dean stepped in front of him and curled his fingers into the front of his collar, pulling it above his shirt. "Dean." Sam almost sounded like he was going to bitch about wanting to just go to sleep, but Dean cut him off.

"Need you, Sammy." Dean pulled Sam's head forward with the collar and bit his bottom lip, licking it to smooth away the sting. He leaned back and gave a warm grin to his brother's now pleasure-lax face. "You're so easy," he said with a smirk. "Strip."

"Fuck yes." Sam hastily tugged his clothes off while Dean went about quickly pouring a line of salt at the door and windows. He was naked and crawling on the bed when Dean set the salt container aside and began pulling his own clothes off. Sam laid back and licked his lips as Dean crawled onto the bed over him. And he moaned when his brother licked a warm, wet line up the center of his chest.

Dean smirked and leaned back on his heels, straddling Sam's thighs. He ran his hands down his brother's chest and then back up, stopping at his nipples. He pinched and pulled until Sam was gasping and arching into the touch. "What do you want, Sammy?"

Sam slid his hands up Dean's muscular thighs, gripped his hips and rolled them over in a sudden move. He grinned down at his brother. "Wanna ride you."

"Hell, yeah." Dean felt around the bed for the bottle of lube he'd tossed there and pulled it over. He moved his legs, letting Sam's slide over his so his brother was straddling him instead and opened the cap. "Open yourself up for me, baby boy." Sam groaned and Dean held the lube out, letting some of it slick his brother's fingers. "Love your face when you do this for me."

Sam leaned backward slightly and moved a hand behind himself while he kept eye contact with Dean. He dropped his mouth open on a sigh as he slid two fingers into himself. He braced his other hand on Dean's thigh behind him and threw his head back as Dean took a firm hold of his cock. "Oh, fuck."

"Yeah, Sammy." Dean watched Sam's fingers thrusting into himself and bit his own lip when Sam quickly added a third. Dean reached a hand up and caught the front of Sam's collar, giving a tug and tightening it against his throat. "You ready for me, little brother? Wanna feel me there all day? Spread you open on my cock."

"Fuck, Dean!" Sam pulled his fingers out and leaned forward again with a breathless laugh while Dean's other hand tightened at the base of his cock. "Gonna make me come already you keep saying shit like that. Asshole."

Dean chuckled. "I know. Come on, Sammy. Open up for me."

Sam lowered himself onto his brother's cock and tossed his head back, gasping as Dean's sizable length pushed into him. He wasn't quite stretched enough and it was exactly what he wanted; just the right side of pain.

Dean knew exactly what Sam wanted in that moment. He used both hands, dug his fingers into Sam's hips and pulled him down hard as he thrust up, burying himself to the hilt inside of Sam. "Fuck."

Sam yelled and curled forward, digging his fingers through Dean's short hair and panting into his mouth. "Come on. Fuck me, Dean. Please, please, please."

Dean gave a growl and pulled Sam up off his cock just enough until he could roll his hips. He thrust up hard and fast, earning a choked shout of his name with Sam's fingers digging into his scalp. It occurred to him that there was no way Steve wasn't going to hear this and then knew that the man wouldn't mind and would certainly understand. He started pulling Sam down to meet his thrusts in a satisfying slap of flesh on flesh.

Sam felt his orgasm speeding toward him, surprised at how quickly he reached that point, and before he could say anything or warn his brother, Dean's mouth was at his ear, his hand on Sam's cock and he whispered, "Come for me, Sammy," and Sam was gone. His back arched as Dean pounded up into him. A howl broke free of his chest as Dean's mouth covered his and swallowed most of the sound. He felt his come splatter up between their chests while lights burst behind his eyes and then Dean was adding his own cries. Sam ate the sounds greedily from Dean's mouth, licking and moaned long and loud when he felt Dean coming and filling him up.

Dean slumped down into the bed with Sam's dead weight on top of him finally. He panted for air and felt the hot, frantic breaths of his brother against his neck. He grinned and gave a breathless laugh while he wrapped his arms around Sam's heaving back. "Still with me, little brother?"

"Mmmm," Sam couldn't have moved just then if the building were to break into flames. He smiled into Dean's sweat-damp skin.

"Eloquent." Dean rolled them so they were on their sides. He grimaced a little at the feel of Sam's cooling come slipping between their skin and started unwinding his brother from around him with a snort of laughter. "Come on, you lump. Let me up for a sec."

"Uh-uh." Sam pulled Dean back in and then rolled their chests together more with a smirk.

"Dammit, you ass!" Dean laughed and shoved Sam's shoulders back. He rolled over enough to grab his discarded t-shirt from the floor and wiped them both off before tossing it aside. He slid back down into the bed and held out an arm, rolling his eyes affectionately when Sam squirmed in and put his head on his chest.

Sam sighed against Dean's chest, listening to his heart beat under his ear and closed his eyes. "Really needed that."

"Yeah, me too." Dean held Sam close and reached an arm out to turn off the light. "They're ok."

Sam nodded and cuddled closer in the dark. "Never should have happened to them."

"I know, Sammy." Dean rested his face in his brother's hair, breathing him in. "But some people are just assholes. We'll make sure they're safe tomorrow in their new digs." He smiled. "And we'll swing by and check up on them more often."

"Good."

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"Wow." Sam leaned forward for a better look as Dean pulled up behind Steve's van at a tall, wrought-iron gate in a high, brick wall. Beyond the gate, he could see a four-story house of dark wood with white shutters and thought it looked more like a small mansion than just a house. "Steve wasn't kidding when he said the insurance company paid out."

"This is some setup." Dean watched the gate break in half and slide back to either side and followed the van through, watching the gate close again in the rear view. "That's gonna help with security."

"There are cameras too." Sam leaned back in his seat and looked up at the house as they pulled into a curved drive around a fountain. Water cascaded out over several large rocks, and he heard the soothing sound of the water falling when he opened his door.

Joe hopped down out of the van and took in the look on Sam's face with a grin. "Pretty damn awesome, right?"

"Hell, yeah." Sam fell back to the trunk with Dean, taking his bag, and then met the others at the back of the van. "So have you already tricked this place out like the old club?"

Steve snorted. "Not yet. Contractors come in next week to start the work. Here." He handed some bags of groceries to each of the three men and took one for himself. "Come on. You have to see this place."

Joe fell in beside Sam and bumped their shoulders together. "He went through every room the first week after we closed on it and pointed out all the places he was going to tie me down. Like a kid on naughty Christmas."

Sam burst into a laugh. "Sounds like Dean." He stepped inside the wide foyer and looked over at Joe while Steve pulled Dean down a hall. "Have you guys had any other problems since the fire? Anyone threatening you?" Joe shook his head and smiled, but Sam could see a fleeting, haunted look in his eyes. "Seriously, Joe. Are you guys going to be safe here?"

"Yeah. We'll be fine." Joe met Sam's eyes and gave him a nod. "One of our best clients is actually a sheriff. No, I'm not going to tell you which one." He chuckled. "Anyway, he's going to make sure we get some support, officers driving by the estate, and he got us a deal on the security system. They're installing it next week."

"Ok. That's good." Sam did feel better knowing that.

"We tried to get them to install it this week, but with all the weird crap going on in town, they couldn't fit us in."

Sam stopped as a shiver ran up his spine and he swallowed. In the Winchesters' world, 'weird crap going on,' usually translated to 'Oh, hell. Here we go again.' He caught up to Joe and put a hand on his shoulder. "What weird crap?"

Joe shrugged. "There's been a couple deaths."

"What kind of deaths?" Sam knew, somehow, that this was going to be bad news, their kind of bad news. He felt it in his gut and had to work to keep that feeling off his face when Joe glanced at him.

"The police are saying it's wild animals, but..." Joe chuckled and waved a hand dismissively. "What the hell kind of wild animals are they going to find around here? Then there's the newspapers. Ok, it's the tabloids, but around here it's the same difference. They're saying it's some sort of creature attack. I mean, creature? Who says shit like that and expects to be taken seriously?"

Sam managed a shrug and a smile, but when Dean reappeared with Steve and looked at him, Sam gave him an expression to tell him something was wrong. "So, how about you guys show us where we're going to be staying?"

"Dude, this place is ginormous." Dean grinned while he gave Sam a small nod; message received.

Steve laughed and slipped an arm around Joe's shoulders when his partner moved up beside him. "We've got rooms for you down here." He blushed slightly and cleared his throat when Joe elbowed him in the stomach. "So, they're, uh... they're your rooms. I mean, like, for good, or whenever you two stop by to see us." He blushed harder and shrugged when Sam and Dean stared at him in shock. "Look, we like having you two around and figured giving you your own safe haven was the best way to get you to stop by more often."

"Bribery?" Sam asked with a smirk and looked over at Dean.

"Yep. Totally bribing us." Dean grinned and snorted a laugh.

"Is it working?" Joe smiled warmly at them both when they nodded.

Sam hitched his duffel bag higher on his shoulder with a chuckle. "Not that we need incentive to come visit you two."

Steve blew out a relieved breath and waved an arm to his left. "Well, come on then. You can tell us if you want anything changed or done to it."

"It's basically an apartment," Joe said with a roll of his eyes as they walked deeper into the house. "Steve may have gotten a little overzealous."

"I did not, and YOU were the one who insisted on the deep pile carpet." Steve grinned and hooked an arm around Joe's shoulders.

"It's easier on the knees," Joe said with a slight blush and a shameless glance to the Winchesters.

Sam burst into a laugh and narrowed his eyes at his brother. "Guess we'll have to test that out."

"Oh, yeah we will." Dean stepped up and pulled Joe into a one-armed hug. "I like a man who thinks ahead."

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Sam dropped down onto the long, low, and well-stuffed couch in a bit of a daze once Steve and Joe left them on their own. "This place is... wow."

"Did you see that bathtub?" Dean asked as he came back out into the living area and pulled off his jacket, tossing it over the back of one of the chairs at the bar-top table beside the little kitchen nook. "They were not kidding when they said it's basically an apartment."

Sam smirked. "You sit on that king size bed yet?" He waggled his brows. "Thought I was gonna sink into it and damn near fell asleep on the spot."

Dean's brows flew up, he grinned, and jogged back out of the room.

Sam chuckled and leaned back into the couch. He laughed, hearing the thump that was undoubtedly his brother diving onto the bed and then the moan of pleasure. "It's a good bed."

"That is an awesome bed," Dean agreed as he came back out. He looked in the small refrigerator and smiled, finding it stocked with beer, grabbed two and went to Sam. He dropped down on the couch next to him and handed him one. "Ok, spill. What happened?"

Sam blew out a breath and opened his beer. He took a long sip and shook his head. "I think there's a job here."

"A... dammit," Dean said with feeling and thumped into the couch beside his brother; their shoulders touching. "What kind of job? Don't tell me this place is haunted."

"Joe said something's been killing people in town. Not too many but a couple so far." Sam shrugged. "Cops say it's a wild animal. The tabloids and the local papers are calling it a 'creature'."

"Well, shit. That's never good if the papers are already catching on." Dean easily drank down half his beer and hung the bottle and his hands between his legs as he sat forward with a frown. "We have to look into this. Shit, if something's munching on the locals, Steve and Joe could be in danger."

Sam nodded. "Knew you'd say that. I'll go into town later and check out the police department; see what they have in the way of information."

"I'm gonna see if I can get more information out of the guys without giving anything away." Dean rolled his eyes and dropped his head into a hand. "Shit. If this is our kinda thing, how the hell are we gonna keep them from finding out what we actually do for a damn living?" He shook his head. "And, I mean, seriously, what are the odds?"

"We'll have to be careful." Sam finished off his beer and set the bottle on the coffee table, taking a moment to run his fingers over the grain of what had once been a tree stump before being sanded and lacquered. Steve and Joe had really gone all out to make the little apartment feel like a safe haven; a home. It was more than that, though. It was a home where they could be themselves. They could be together and not worry about being judged... well, so long as Steve and Joe never learned that they were brothers. Sam couldn't see even them being alright with the whole incest thing.

"Hey." Dean frowned and pulled Sam over to him. He tunneled his fingers through his hair and squeezed the side of his neck. "You alright? You've got serious face goin' on."

Sam nodded and turned his face into his brother's hair. "Just... a little overwhelmed by all this."

"I get it, Sammy." Dean placed a gentle kiss against Sam's temple and then rubbed his jaw in his brother's hair while he looked around the little apartment. "We don't have to pretend as much here. They gave us that and they don't even know it."

Sam laughed softly, as always appreciative that somehow Dean always understood what he was thinking without him having to say it aloud. "Let's do this job and make sure they're safe."

"We're not leavin' this town until I know they're protected, dude." Dean chuckled. "At some point, I'm gonna get them outta this freakin' mansion and I'm gonna salt every damn door and window in here, and pluck up the carpet in a few places and lay down devil's traps too. You watch me."

Sam grinned and sat back up. "I'll help." He stood and stretched. "Cop shop first, though. I'll tell the guys I'm running out for, uh... shit, what do I tell them?"

"Tell 'em the truth." Dean said and finished off his own beer. "That you're going to see the cops. They'll think you're going to make sure they're safe, which ain't exactly a lie." He rolled up the sleeves of his flannel to his elbows and got a few more beers out of the fridge. "Better yet, I'll tell them while you go do the fed thing. I can keep them distracted with the remodel while you're gone. They want to start knocking walls out in the center of the house for the club." Dean gave Sam a lop-sided smirk. "Gives me an excuse to play with sledgehammers."

"Oh, man." Sam pointed at his brother as Dean went for the door. "Don't knock the whole damn house down!"

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Dean stepped back and let the heavy weight of the sledgehammer rest on the floor beside him. He shoved his goggles up onto his head and turned to grin at Joe. "Runnin' outta wall over here. You got anymore?"

Joe laughed and shook his head. Dean had easily taken down the first three walls they'd pointed him at in a little over an hour, something they had figured would take them at least three or four. "Not today. Steve wants our construction team here to knock out the floor above." He aimed a finger at the ceiling. "You remember how the old club took up interior of the house right up to the roof?" He smiled when Dean nodded. "We're doing the same here except there's going to be a balcony ringing the dance floor and the upstairs bedrooms are going to be private play rooms."

"Wow. You guys have really thought this out." Dean was impressed with the level of dedication the two men put into their business.

"Yep. Figured, since we have to start over, we may as well get all the things we didn't know we wanted the first time," Steve said with a laugh as he stepped through one of the now open walls with a fresh round of beers. He held one out to Dean and the other to Joe. "You can help us get all this debris out of here, though."

"That I can do." Dean cocked his head when he heard a door slam and smirked. "Better yet, I can make Sammy haul all this crap outta here."

"Dude, you are cruel." Steve laughed. "Sam! We're back here!"

"Coming!"

Dean pulled off his heavy work gloves and tugged at the sweaty collar of his t-shirt before raising his beer to Steve in thanks. He raised the bottle and took long pulls of the cold liquid, closing his eyes to savor the feeling as it soothed his parched throat, one slow swallow at a time. He felt a bead of cold moisture from the neck of the bottle roll over his lip and down his chin and moaned softly as it cooled his skin.

"How... do you make drinking a damn beer look that dirty sexy?" Joe said with wide eyes. He realized suddenly what he'd said aloud and cleared his throat, putting a hand over his face. "Uh, never mind."

Dean choked a little on his beer, sputtered and started coughing and laughing at the same time. "Holy crap."

"Nice, Joe." Steve laughed loudly and slapped his partner's shoulder. "Try not to accidentally kill the guy." He looked over at Dean with an appraising smile. "He's not wrong though."

"Who's not wrong?" Sam asked as he rounded a corner and saw a destroyed, open wall in front of him. "Wow. You guys have been busy!" He ducked low to step through it and yelped when something caught on his collar and jerked him back into an awkward crouch. "Dammit."

Steve laughed again and shook his head. "Here. Hang on. Let me get it."

"Thanks." Sam tilted his head to the side and looked up to find Dean grinning. "Shut up."

"Sasquatch," Dean said with a laugh and raised his beer to his brother. "That was graceful."

Steve found what Sam was caught on and tried to untangle it. "Looks like an old wire." He brushed his knuckles over Sam's throat when he felt him startle. "Don't worry. I turned the power off to this part of the house before we started. See?" He gestured out into the room. "Worklights. They're hooked up to a battery in the next room over. Just sit still for a sec."

"You sure it's safe?" Dean asked and took a step closer to his brother in concern.

"It's fine, Dean. Promise." Steve met Dean's eyes with a reassuring smile and then turned to his task.

Sam smiled at his brother to assure him it was fine and then rested his hands on his knees to give his back a break from the awkward, hunched position he found himself in. "So what were you guys talking about?"

Joe grinned. "The fact that Dean can make drinking a beer into something I need batteries for."

Sam was surprised into a laugh and then gave a small gasp when the collar pulled tight at his throat. It sent a pleasant, warm thrill through his blood, feeling Steve's fingers inside it, holding it while he worked; Fingers that were not Dean's. He was surprised at how hot that suddenly seemed. He flicked his gaze back up to his brother and saw understanding in Dean's eyes. There was something else there too, though, in those eyes - a wary tenseness that Dean felt through his whole body when he saw Steve's fingers slip under Sam's collar, touching what was his. But that was quickly being replaced by a darkening, heated look as Dean unconsciously ran his tongue over his lips as he watched.

Steve tugged at the wire and snarled a curse as it stubbornly refused to unhook from the elephant hair of the collar. He pulled a little harder and then realized Sam was panting. "Shit, Sam. Are you...oh..." he trailed off when he saw the expression on Sam's face.

"I'm ok."

Steve nodded, mute. The tone of voice and look in Sam's eyes clearly said, 'I'm horny as fuck right now please don't stop ever.' He freed Sam at last, but kept his fingers tangled in the collar against Sam's warm skin, unwilling to break that humming connection just yet.

Sam glanced up at Dean again, their eyes meeting. Dean quirked an inquisitive eyebrow and deliberately flicked his eyes up to Steve and back to Sam, both a silent question and permission all rolled into that one heated look – if Sam wanted to give himself over to Steve for a bit, it was okay with him. He gave a wolfish grin when Sam gave the barest nod and smiled in return, his lips falling slightly open as he pulled his head further to the side and made the collar tighter at his throat.

"Wow." Steve laughed under his breath and tightened his fingers more to pull the collar taut. "Have I ever mentioned that I love the way the two of you have whole conversations without saying a damn word? Fuck, that is hot."

"No shit." Joe palmed his own growing erection and swallowed. He smiled, watching the way Sam let Steve handle him with Dean watching so intensely... he had a sudden need for them all to be somewhere more comfortable with fewer clothes.

Steve looked over at Dean and got a nod. He knew he had not misread Sam's signals, but needed to be sure it was really okay with Dean, too. He took a deep breath for that level of trust and turned back to Sam, letting his brain kick over into dom mode. "Knees," he said hoarsely and groaned a little when Sam dropped, angling his head back and looking up at Steve with a level of trust it usually took a long time to build, though he knew it wasn't absolute; the same way he knew this would never happen if Dean were not there. Steve ran the fingers of his other hand back into Sam's long hair and gave it a tug, earning a low moan. He smiled. "Here's what's going to happen. We're going to go shower, and then we're going to meet in that living room outside of your apartment." He gentled his grip in Sam's hair and let his fingers slide away from the collar to trail softly up Sam's throat, over his Adam's apple and to his chin. "If you're ok with that. If you both are. You can say no at any time. If you change your mind while Dean's in the shower, that's alright too. Alright, Sam?"

Sam smiled gratefully and tilted his head to lay a kiss on Steve's knuckles. "See you in the living room in twenty minutes."

Dean chuckled. He shifted his hips, making room for his growing cock and went to Sam when Steve moved away. "Come on, Sammy." He held out a hand and helped his brother to his feet while Steve put an arm around Joe and led him off in the other direction. "You good with this? 'Cause we don't have to do this."

"I am." Sam said surely. "Are you?" He narrowed his eyes playfully and pulled at his brother's belt buckle. "You really ok with sharing me?"

"With anyone else?" Dean asked and scowled. "Fuck, no. I'd rip apart anybody else who touched you like that. But with them? Oh, hell, yeah. You have any idea how hot that was?" he asked and pulled Sam's hips into his own while he bit his brother's jaw. "Watching Steve play with your collar? Put you on your knees?" He licked around the edge of Sam's mouth and bit his bottom lip until Sam whined. "Really wanna see what you look like with his cock in your mouth, little brother."

"Fuck," Sam gasped and held onto Dean's shoulders while he shuddered.

Dean chuckled and leaned back to look at his brother's flushed face. "Almost made you come just talkin', didn't I?"

"You're such an ass," Sam laughed breathlessly and took Dean's arm, pulling him around. "Come on. I can tell you what I found out while we shower."

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Dean ran his soapy hands in a slick slide up and down his brother's back and grinned. Some days were just good days. He ran his fingers between the cheeks of his brother's ass and chuckled when Sam shivered and hitched his hips out toward him. "Gotta get you nice and clean, Sammy. So, what'd you find out today?"

Sam snorted a laugh into the wall and flattened his hands against the tile. He let out a soft moan when he felt his brother's fingers circling his hole and shook his head. "How the hell am I supposed to remember my name with you doing that? Shit."

"Don't have all day." Dean leaned into Sam's back and slipped a finger inside him. He bit at his brother's neck under the collar. "Might be a good long time before you get to come."

"Not helping," Sam gasped as Dean expertly pressed a finger into his prostate. "Fuck. Uh, ok, so the cops don't have a whole lo... lot. Fuck." He dropped his forehead to the tile and groaned with Dean making rhythmic passes over his sweet spot inside him. "Um... there's... people, I mean the victims..."

"Focus, Sammy," Dean growled in his brother's ear and moved his other hand around to Sam's cock. He brushed his palm over the length of him and pressed his own against a cheek of Sam's ass. At the same time, he slipped the cock ring over the head of Sam's cock and pushed it down to the base so it rested snug, removing his ability to come until Dean let him.

"Focus, my ass." Sam gave a breathless laugh and pressed his forehead harder into the green tile wall. "Definitely a creature of some kind. Cops were useless... shit, yeah. Right there." He tilted his ass to give his brother better access and panted a little. "Um, the papers didn't have much solid intel either. There's... shit, Dean."

"There's what?" Dean smiled into Sam's wet skin and continued his slow torture.

"Kills are centered... centered somewhere on the outside of town. Might be a local cryptid of some kind on a cycle, and I want... um... check county r-records, fuck, your fingers. Uh, I think..." Sam moaned again and gasped while Dean's hand tightened around his dick. "I think... fuck, I forget what I thought."

Dean chuckled and took his hand away from his brother's cock, taking pity on him. "What'd you find? Sounds like you found something."

Sam blew out a breath and shivered with Dean still working his fingers inside of him. "I think the old club was near the center of the killings."

Dean's hands stilled and he narrowed his eyes. "Really?"

Sam nodded and sobered a little. "Yeah. I looked at the reports for the club fire too. I'm not sure it was people who did it. The fire marshall couldn't find any signs of foul play, just a broken gas line that could have been accidental."

"Well, shit." Dean leaned back. He took his fingers out of his brother and let the water from the shower run down his back, rinsing Sam off in a warm wash. "Maybe the fire was caused by whatever the hell's eating people."

Sam nodded and straightened. He turned around and slid his arms around Dean's neck. He leaned in and nibbled along his brother's jaw, rubbing his cheek against the stubble with a smile. "If it comes here, we'll be ready for it."

"Damn right, we will." Dean ran his hands down his brother's chest and rolled their hips together. "You ready to play tonight, tiger?"

"Oh, fuck yes," Sam breathed into Dean's skin. He leaned back and grinned. "The thought of the two of you topping my ass about made me come in my jeans out there."

"Oh, this is gonna be a good night." Dean laughed and pinched Sam's ass until he yelped. "Let's get moving."

Sam allowed Dean to dress him the way he wanted and wasn't surprised when the only things he was allowed to wear were a pair of black leather pants they'd acquired the last time they'd been at the club and his collar. His bare feet padded over the comfortably thick pile of the carpet and he caught Dean watching them. Sam smirked. "You really wanna suck on my toes, don't you?"

Dean palmed himself through his jeans and nodded happily. "Love the noises you make when I do that." He met Sam's eyes with a heated look. "Can't wait to hear the noises you're gonna make for us tonight."

"Shit." Sam's cock stood up and took notice with the look in Dean's eyes and he smiled when Dean came to him and wrapped his fingers in the front of the collar.

"You got anything you want to be sure doesn't happen?" Dean asked seriously, letting Sam know that he would make sure to take care of him no matter what they did tonight. "'Cause I know for damn sure, no one's fucking that ass but me. Ever. The rest, though, that's up to you."

Sam's heart warmed even as he chuckled. He considered for a moment and then nodded. "No, uh... I don't want to kiss anyone but you on the lips. That just seems too... it's too personal." He moved into Dean's space against his chest, flattening his brother's hand against the front of his shoulder. "Only person's lips I want owning me are yours."

"Fuck," Dean groaned and leaned his face in to capture Sam's lips in a hot kiss. He waited until they were both breathless and finally moved back with a naughty grin. "You ready?" Dean asked and smoothed his thumb over Sam's collar bone. His brother looked amazingly sexy - all that tanned skin on display, set off by the black leather. It was a hell of a sight.

"So damn ready." Sam smiled eagerly.

Dean went to the door and led Sam out into the spacious living area. There were two long couches, several sturdy looking chairs, one low table between them, and a taller table on the wall that, to Dean, looked to be just the right height for perching his brother's hips while he fucked him. He smirked and looked up as Steve and Joe entered from the other side.

Steve smiled, looking at the two of them and nodded. "Remind me to stock the closet in there with leather. Damn."

Dean watched appreciatively as Joe moved up beside Steve and then went gracefully to his knees, resting his palms on his spread thighs. Dean recognized it as a classic sub pose, although he and Sam had never really gotten too much into the formal sub "etiquette." He too wore black leather pants, not unlike the ones Sam had on, but he also wore an intricately criss-crossed leather harness with hooks in strategic places, and at his throat was a wide, black collar with a gleaming, golden buckle and Dean couldn't help but think 'pirate' as he looked at it. He turned to say as much to his brother and looked in surprise as Sam copied Joe and dropped to his knees, carefully assuming the same submissive position. "Shit."

Joe smiled and gave Sam a small nod of approval. "What are we gonna do when they look that damn hot without even doing anything?" Steve asked playfully. He ran his fingers through Joe's shaggy, dark hair and brushed his own blonde locks out of his eyes. "So Dean, where do you want to start? I know you've never shared Sam before so you're in charge here tonight. Your boundaries."

Dean moved behind Sam. He tunneled his fingers in his brother's hair and then gripped it tight to tilt Sam's head back, baring his face to the room. "Sam says no kissing on the mouth. He's not comfortable sharing that with anyone but me." He smiled when Steve and Joe both nodded. "And no one fucks him but me."

Steve scratched his nails through Joe's hair until he shivered in anticipation and chuckled, looking up to meet Dean's eyes. "I don't know why I should be surprised that we have the same rules."

Sam's mouth fell open a little and he laughed. The laugh died away on a flood of desire when Steve's blue eyes fell on him. They were filled with lust and he watched like a deer caught in headlights as the man paced to him. Steve, while casual and relaxed in their ordinary exchanges, was a very experienced dom, and when he shifted into that role, it practically radiated off of him. Sam could feel himself reacting to that even across the room as the man approached. He shuddered when Steve dragged a fingernail up the front of his throat and let his eyes fall closed, giving himself over to the peaceful place he went when Dean dominated him.

Dean gave Sam's hair a last tug and then moved back to lean on the arm of one of the couches. "Sammy. I know you want to show Steve the things you can do with that tongue. Take him out. Get him wet."

Sam moaned and put shaking fingers to Steve's pants. He popped open the button fly and bared the man's cock, mouth watering at the sight of it. It was as pretty as he'd thought it would be. He curled his fingers around the length and tugged it down while Steve grunted in appreciation.

"Fuck." Steve blew out a long breath as Sam's hot mouth closed over the head of his cock.

Dean smirked. "He's insanely good at that, aren't you, l... lover," he quickly amended his sentence. He'd almost said 'little brother' and it blew a moment of cold fear through him. He didn't know if they could stand seeing judgement in Steve and Joe's eyes. He pushed the thought away and let the sight of his insanely hot little brother sucking Steve's cock put him quickly back in the mood. "That's it, baby boy," he breathed as Sam swallowed Steve down to the base and buried his nose in the blonde curls there. He shivered and opened his own jeans so he could palm his suddenly aching dick.

Steve forced his eyes open and looked down to watch Sam's glistening lips sliding up and down his length. It was a beautiful sight, and the muscles of his stomach fluttered in reaction when Sam's blue-green eyes turned up to meet his. "Damn, Sam." He tightened his fingers into fists in Sam's hair and looked over his shoulder to his own partner. "Joe-baby." He gave a nod toward Dean and Joe grinned.

"Oh, fuck yeah," Joe said in a whisper. It had been a sweet sort of torture to watch Sam sucking Steve's cock, to see Sam's big hands curled around the backs of his partner's thighs and squeezing to hold him in place. Joe met Dean's bottle-green eyes and smiled. He'd wanted to do this for a long damn time. Rather than walk, Joe knelt up and then dropped to all fours. He crawled slowly, making sure to accentuate the roll of his shoulders and hips and felt pleasure at the darkening of Dean's eyes. He reached the man's knees and slid between them. Joe ran his hands slowly up the inside of Dean's thighs and licked his lips.

"Gonna suck my cock, Joe?" Dean asked hoarsely. He heard Sam moan and looked over to find his brother craning his neck with Steve's cock still in his mouth in an effort to watch. Dean grinned and shifted his hand so his dick stood out proud and thick and tall in front of Joe's face. "What do ya' think, Sammy? Think Joe can make me come? You wanna see that?" The look of almost desperate pleading in Sam's eyes told Dean he did. He turned his gaze away from Sam and met Joe's whiskey-brown eyes with a smile. "Lick it for me. Don't want you to suck it yet. Just get it nice and wet."

Joe groaned and shifted forward, bracing his hands against the cut of Dean's hips. He licked a stripe up Dean's cock like a lollipop and moaned at the taste. He smiled at the full body shiver he earned from Dean and flicked his tongue against the bundle of nerves under the head.

"Yeah, like that." Dean held his cock out a little more and watched Joe's agile tongue curl and move against his skin, following the veins up and down. "Shit, he's good at that."

Steve was gasping for air with Sam's mouth working him over but he managed a grin. He watched the sight of his lover licking Dean and as he had before, admired the girth of the man's cock. He had no illusions as to why Sam always made so much noise. "The man has a... fuck, Sam... he has a skill. Christ, so does Sam. Good God." Steve hunched forward over Sam's head while the younger Winchester held him against the back of his throat and somehow managed to swallow and hum at the same time. "Fuck!" Steve shouted and found himself coming hard with Sam swallowing each pulse. He leaned back up shakily with his hands around Sam's head and the breath punched out of him when Sam opened his mouth and showed him a mouthful of his own come before he closed his mouth and swallowed noisily.

Dean chuckled and soothed his knuckles over Joe's jaw while he watched. "That's my boy, Sammy. Come here."

Sam turned, moving awkwardly for the weight of his own, hard cock in the leather pants and crawled to Dean. He leaned up and let his big brother kiss the taste of Steve from his mouth. "Dean," he panted.

Dean bit at Sam's lips and rested their foreheads together for a moment as Joe impulsively sucked in the head of his cock with a loud slurp and let it go again. "Shit," he said into Sam's mouth and opened his eyes to look at his brother. He scraped his nails down Sam's neck so he shivered. "You know what I want, Sammy?" he whispered into his brother's ear. "I wanna watch Steve turn that sweet ass of yours cherry red. I wanna hear you howling and begging us to fuck you." He nipped at Sam's ear and curled his fingers around the back of his collar, tugging it tight against his throat. "Then I'm gonna fuck you, Sammy. I'm gonna fuck you while you suck Joe's cock. And you don't get to come unless he screams."

"F-fuck," Sam's whole body shuddered with want and he curled down until his head was resting on Dean's chest. He opened his eyes, feeling Steve begin to peel his leather pants down his hips and saw Joe. Joe's eyes were wide and heavy with lust while he swirled his tongue around the head of Dean's cock and there was a naughty sort of smile on his face; he was very much on board with this plan.

Steve pulled on Sam's shoulders and got him standing. "Pants off, Sam. Now," he ordered. He looked over and quirked a brow at his lover. "Pretty sure no one told you to stop suckin' that cock."

Joe shivered happily and looked up at Dean before he sank his mouth down on the man happily.

"Shit." Dean let his head fall back for a moment and then looked up again at Steve. "Sam likes it hard. Louder he yells, the more he's enjoyin' it. Don't go easy on him."

Steve ran his hands down Sam's chest, stopping to tweak each of his nipples into stiff peaks and smiled. "Oh, I am going to enjoy this. But first..." He reached into the back pocket of his jeans and tugged. He watched Sam's eyes widen and then darken as the golden chain of the nipple clamps glittered in the light. "Alright?"

Sam nodded eagerly and swallowed hard. "Yes. Please." His voice was thready with need and went straight to the groins of the three other men.

Dean moaned and pumped his hips up into Joe's mouth. He took a fistful of the man's hair and moaned louder when Joe hummed around him. He knew it wouldn't be long now until he came. Not with Joe sucking him in earnest and the vision of Sam being owned by someone they both trusted. "You good, Sam?" Dean asked while Steve placed the clamps on Sam's nipples; tightening them just enough until Sam was panting and whining.

"Yes, Dean. God." Sam slammed his eyes closed when Steve flicked both the clamps. The sensation went straight to his groin and he was glad of the cock ring or he would have spilled right there.

Steve pulled over one of the high backed chairs and set it in the open area. He turned Sam, running his fingers along his skin and watched the goosebumps spring up in the wake of his touch. He bent him over the chair back until his ass was in the air. "Hold on to the legs, Sam." He waited for Sam to grip the rungs and then curved his hand over the back of Sam's head into his hair. "You know your safeword?" Sam gave him a nod. "Let me hear it."

"Cherries," Sam picked his head up and met Dean's eyes. Steve had placed him so he was facing his brother and could watch Joe driving him closer to orgasm with every pass of his mouth on Dean's cock.

"Good, Sam." Steve moved back around behind him and went to a small chest along one wall. He smirked over at Dean as he opened it and pulled out a flogger. "Didn't have a chance to put these goodies in your rooms before you got here, but I knew you'd want them."

"Oh, Sammy." Dean gripped Joe's hair and pushed his cock fully into his mouth until he bumped the back of his throat. He looked down to make sure the man was alright and Joe smiled around his cock, sending a fresh pulse of lust through him. He met his brother's eyes and grinned. "You are gonna have a damn good night."

"All... already am." Sam felt heavy, leather strips tickle over his ass and up his back and gasped. "Oh, fuck. Please, please, please."

"Damn, he's hot when he begs." Steve palmed his cock. It was already starting to become interested again in spite of how hard Sam had just made him come. "And I haven't even gotten started. Count with me, Sam. If you miss one, I'm going to start over. Twenty should do it, I think." He knew he was right to go that high when Sam's body shuddered before him, and the man hitched his ass out higher and spread his legs without any urging. Untrained though he was in the more formal aspects, Sam's submission to him was a beautiful thing, and Steve drew a deep breath at the trust being offered him. "Watch Dean. Let him see that pretty face of yours while I warm your ass for him."

Sam groaned long and loud as the flogger's leather straps slapped across his ass. His head dropped and he took a moment to just enjoy the feeling as the burn of pain faded to heat and then pleasure. He whimpered when a hand fisted in his hair and pulled his head up.

"What are you supposed to do, Sam?" Steve growled in his ear.

"C-count," Sam panted and felt a little ashamed that he had made a mistake. It was all just so overwhelming he was having trouble focusing on anything but the overload of emotions and the sensation of different hands on him, a different cock in his mouth, all with Dean there, watching and enjoying the display.

"And?"

"Watch Dean." He licked his lips and met his brother's eyes again. "One."

Steve smiled over at Dean, getting a nod and a grin, and let go of Sam's hair. "I'll give you that one, but if you forget to count again..." he let the threat hang and leaned back to strike again. Sam's voice rose up to count out loud and louder each time the leather hit him.

"Five!" Sam shouted and was trembling, watching Dean and Joe. Dean's hand was tangled in Joe's hair, his eyes gone dark with lust and pleasure. He could tell Dean was close by the way his mouth hung open and his fingers tightened in Joe's hair.

"That's it, Sam." Steve smoothed a hand over the warm skin and pulled his arm back to strike again.

"So fuckin' hot, Sammy," Dean gasped, hips rolling into Joe's mouth in earnest. He watched Sam's eyes widen with each hit of the leather, the way they darkened, how his fingers were white-knuckled on the legs of the chair and the noises... Steve had taken Dean's words to heart and was not holding back. Sam cried out over and over, and each time Dean thought he would safe word, or that he would need to stop Steve if his brother was too stubborn to give in, Sam would give him that happy, blissed-out look even through the obvious pain of the next strike of the lashes. "Fuck!" Dean shouted and his head dropped back as Joe swallowed him, rolling his balls and he came. Lights sparked behind his eyes with the strength of the orgasm and he forced himself to let go of Joe's hair and let the man breathe. He smiled his appreciation down at the man, and smoothed his hand through his hair fondly. Joe grinned cheekily up at him, apparently well-pleased with the result of his efforts.

"Oh fuck. Fuck!" Sam yelled out, watching his brother come, watching Joe pull his head back and a spatter of Dean's seed sprayed across his red lips. "Twenty!" He was panting for breath and slumped down over the back of the chair as the last stripe of pain/pleasure from the flogger burned across his backside and sank into his skin.

Steve set the flogger down and leaned over Sam's back. He placed gentle kisses on the sweaty skin of Sam's shoulder blades, tasting the salt and brushed his fingers over Sam's face. He felt the tracks of tears dampening the man's cheek and smiled. "Sam? Alright?"

Dean brought his head up and watched Steve smoothing his hands up and down his brother's back, brushing his long hair out of Sam's face, and smiled at the gentle kiss the man put on Sam's shoulder. He watched his brother's fingers loosen from the legs of the chair and saw the shine of pleasure and gratitude in his brother's eyes when he finally lifted his head. "Yeah, he's good."

"Yes." Sam turned his head and caught Steve's knuckles, letting his lips brush across them. He was so close to coming, had been for the last ten lashes. The maddening ring around his cock was the only thing keeping him from exploding. He knew he'd be begging soon if this intensity kept up. He breathed deeply until that need pushed back a little, then pushed his hips back, brushing the over-sensitive skin of his reddened ass against Steve's jeans to feel the burn. "I'm ok."

Steve chuckled and rested his forehead on the back of Sam's shoulders, having to back off his own need to come. Sam was too damn sexy for his own good. He could feel Sam's body trembling with the after-effects of the flogging and the no doubt overwhelming need to come. He slipped his arms around Sam's chest and pulled. "Come on, Sam. Up you come."

Dean reached out and took Joe's face in his hands. He rubbed his fingers through the spot of his own come on Joe's cheek while the man licked his lips. Dean smiled at him and slipped his fingers through Joe's hair, scratching at his scalp so the man almost purred. "So good for me, Joe."

Joe turned his head, leaning into Dean's hands and kissed the inside of his wrist. "Thank you."

Dean shivered at the hoarse, fucked-out quality of Joe's voice from having had Dean's cock in his throat. He spotted a couple bottles of water on the table beside him and grabbed one, twisting the top off. "Drink for me, buddy." Joe opened his mouth and let Dean dribble cool water between his lips, swallowing with a grateful sigh as his eyes closed. Dean handed the bottle to Steve when he neared with his brother and directed Sam to kneel on the edge of the couch.

"Here we go, Sam," Steve gave a nod of thanks to Dean and cupped Sam's jaw in one hand, holding the bottle for him to drink from in the other while Sam leaned lazily back against his chest; his head propped against the front of Steve's shoulder. "Slowly, now."

Dean and Joe both reached out at the same time to run their nails lightly down Sam's side nearest them and Sam shivered in reaction while he drank. "Beautiful, Sammy," Dean murmured and smoothed his fingers over the flog-reddened skin of his hip and ass, feeling the warmth.

Steve pulled the bottle back and handed it off to Dean. He reached down and tugged lightly on the chain connecting the nipple clamps so Sam whined and arched harder against him. "Do you want to be fucked, Sam?"

"Yes!" Sam replied desperately. He reached his right hand behind him, grabbing hold of Steve's hip to balanced himself and felt Dean catch hold of his left hand. "Please!"

"Have you earned that?" Steve asked playfully and pulled harder on the clamps, releasing them suddenly so Sam cried out and his hips thrust forward in search of friction.

"Please, please, please," Sam panted and whined. He felt fingernails scrape across the fluttering muscles of his stomach and part to frame the base of his cock and a needy tear rolled down his cheek. He opened his eyes, ready to beg on his knees if he had to. His gaze swept to the window and Sam froze.

Steve reached into his back pocket and pulled out two tubes of lube. He tossed one to Dean with a smirk. "Would you mind if I got him ready for you? I've been dying to feel him squirm on the ends of my fingers."

"Oh fuck, yeah." Dean grinned and looked down at Joe. "Over my knees, baby."

"Shit," Joe groaned happily and moved, shifting and turning so he was laid over Dean's lap with his ass in the air.

Steve flicked open the cap on the lube and frowned as he felt Sam suddenly go stiff against his chest. "Sam? Are you alright with that?" He put a hand to Sam's chest to soothe him and felt nothing but tense muscles, puzzled at the sudden shift. Then Sam looked down at his brother and Steve saw a change come over his face. Dean saw it too and recognized it immediately. A lifetime of training and fighting together had him responding automatically to Sam's change in demeanor without conscious thought, instantly slipping into hunter mode himself.

"Window," Sam said and spun. He grabbed Steve and shoved him down behind the couch. "Stay there and stay down!"

Joe gasped as Dean pushed him off his lap and thrust him toward Steve. "You stay together and you don't move. Sam, here!" He reached over to the jacket he'd tossed on the back of the couch and pulled out both of their guns, tossing Sam's to him, stood, and turned to the window with his gun raised. "What was it?"

Sam shook his head and rounded the couch, oblivious to the fact that he was naked with golden clamps still strung between his nipples, his cock still erect with the ring at the base. He went to the window and shoved the heavy curtain open the rest of the way. He held his gun down and ready and looked out into the night. "Just saw it for a second. It's close."

"Put your pants on," Dean ordered and moved, putting himself between the window and their guys, determined to keep them safe no matter what came through it.

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_To Be Continued..._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: You know, I was totally going to take pity on you this time and then I got to the end of the chapter and the boys said, nope. Not exciting. Let's do this instead. :P Lurv you!
> 
> Graphic depictions within. Beta'd by the always awesome JaniceC678
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own 'em but if I did, they'd never get dressed.
> 
> ~Reviews are love~

 

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_Steve flicked open the cap on the lube and frowned as he felt Sam suddenly go stiff against his chest. "Sam? Are you alright with that?" He put a hand to Sam's chest to soothe him and felt nothing but tense muscl_ _es, puzzled at the sudden shift. Then Sam looked down at his brother and Steve saw a change come over his face. Dean saw it too and recognized it immediately. A lifetime of training and fighting together had him responding automatically to Sam's change in demeanor without conscious thought, instantly slipping into hunter mode himself._

_"Window," Sam said and spun. He grabbed Steve and shoved him down behind the couch. "Stay there and stay down!"_

_Joe gasped as Dean pushed him off his lap and thrust him toward Steve. "You stay together and you don't move. Sam, here!" He reached over to the jacket he'd tossed on the back of the couch and pulled out both of their guns, tossing Sam's to him, stood, and turned to the window with his gun raised. "What was it?"_

_Sam shook his head and rounded the couch, oblivious to the fact that he was naked with golden clamps still strung between his nipples, his cock still erect with the ring at the base. He went to the window and shoved the heavy curtain open the rest of the way. He held his gun down and ready and looked out into the night. "Just saw it for a second. It's close."_

_"Put your pants on," Dean ordered and moved, putting himself between the window and their guys, determined to keep them safe no matter what came through it._

**Chapter 2**

Steve held Joe against his chest and watched, a little stunned and awed at the complete change that had overcome both men and completely bewildered as to what had caused it. Sam's face was grim and set as he put down his gun long enough to pull on the leather pants over his still-straining erection. Steve grimaced in sympathy when Sam quickly took the clamps from his chest, hissing out a pained breath as the blood flow returned to his nipples but it didn't slow him down. There was nothing of the submissive in Sam at that moment as he picked his gun back up. He was all coiled muscle, with an almost feral quality to his movements, a hunter rather than the prey. In a million years, Steve would never have pegged the Sam he saw before him as having a submissive bone in his body, and he wasn't sure how the man had shifted from one to the other so quickly.

"They'll be safer in our room." Sam rubbed a hand over his chest for a moment and went back to his brother.

"Yeah." Dean backed away from the window but kept his eyes on it. "I want you two in our rooms. They're protected." He snorted. "Well, as protected as we can get them. Both of you get in there and don't come out until we come for you."

"Dean, what the hell is going on?" Steve demanded as he stood and brought Joe with him. He had caught a glimpse of something in the window before Sam had pushed him down, but his mind refused to make sense of it. There was a distinct current of tension in the room, and despite the initial shock wearing off a bit, he felt a flutter of fear in his stomach.

"Sam?" Joe asked uncertainly and saw Sam's eyes flick to him and soften for just a moment before going back to the window.

"There's something outside." Sam went to Dean and reached out, flicking open the latch on the window. He shoved it wide, letting the cool, night air flow into the room and sat on the windowsill. "Flashlight?"

"Got it." Dean went to his jacket and dug the flashlight out of the inner pocket and then looked at Steve and Joe as he pointed an imperious finger to their door. "Get in there! We'll be back. Go!"

Steve moved without thinking and pulled Joe to the door. "Be careful, alright?"

Dean gave the guys a lopsided grin. "Always."

"Dean, come on." Sam put his legs out the window and dropped to the ground in a crouch. He grunted and had to shift his painfully hard cock in his pants. The cock ring was still in place, but he couldn't afford to remove that just then, not when he was likely to come from a stiff breeze and there was a potentially dangerous something outside. He'd felt the thing before he saw it; felt its eyes on them watching. He wished he'd gotten a better look at it, but it was just a shadow in the darkness with yellow, almost orange eyes glowing softly. Sam had seen them flicker as the thing blinked. It had stood there just outside the window watching him until he moved and then it had lunged out of sight.

Dean climbed out the window and turned on the flashlight. "Which way?"

Sam moved to the left, letting Dean play the light out ahead from behind him and scanned the bushes against the side of the massive house. "Thought they said there were motion activated lights out here?"

"Maybe they're not... ah!" Dean yelped as lights flooded them, blinding him for just a moment. "Son of a bitch!"

Sam shaded his eyes against the bright flood lights and kept his gun up. The lights lit the lawn near the house up like daylight and sent long shadows from nearby trees and their own stretching out into the darkness. "It's still here," he muttered. He was sure of it though he didn't know how he knew.

"Fuck." Dean blinked furiously to clear his vision and checked behind them. "Where?"

"I don't know." Sam narrowed his eyes and strode across the grass toward a wall of screening trees, keeping his gun up and finger light on the trigger. He saw something move, a dark shape amidst darker shadows and broke into a run. "There!"

Dean kept up with his brother running, and they split with a glance, going wide to round the screen of trees on either side. He led with his gun and the light just as Sam appeared ten feet away and they both fired reflexively as a dark shape lurched away through a wall of head-high bushes. A moment later, whatever it was had gone up and over the wall. "Dammit! Did you see it? I didn't get a look."

"No," Sam said angrily. He lowered his gun and knelt to look at the grass. "Light?"

"Yeah." Dean aimed the flashlight in front of his brother but kept his eyes on the wall in case it came back. "What do you got?"

"Prints." Sam reached out and brushed his fingers over one. It was an oblong footprint, nearly a foot in length with only four toes and the deep indentations of claws. "Well, it's definitely not a bear."

Dean snorted as he glanced down. "Ya think? Damn, what the hell is this thing and why would it come here?"

"I don't know." Sam stood and shivered slightly in the cool, night air. "But I'm starting to get the feeling that maybe it's stalking Steve and Joe. The club was near the center of the kill zone before it burned."

"We need to figure this shit out," Dean said angrily. He slapped his brother's bare shoulder. "Come on. Let's get back inside."

"Has to be a reason it keeps coming back to them." Sam walked through the screen of trees and really wished he'd thought to put shoes on before going outside. His toes were freezing in the grass.

"We'll figure it out." Dean reached out and rubbed a hand briskly up and down Sam's left arm to warm him a little, and couldn't help a small grin from coming crossing his face. "Not your usual hunting outfit there, Sammy." The withering glare glare Sam sent him made Dean chuckle, but then he fell serious again. "Meantime, we'll make this damn mansion of theirs as safe as we can."

The door to their rooms was closed when Dean climbed back in the window. He tucked his gun at his back and ran a hand through his hair. "Well, shit," he said and helped Sam back through the window and closed it behind him; pulling the curtains too. "This is gonna be a hell of a conversation."

"Maybe Steve didn't see anything?" Sam shrugged and put his own in the back of his leather pants where it pressed uncomfortably into his spine. "We can just tell them we're being overprotective after the fire. I mean, it's not a lie exactly. I think they already think we're spies or bounty hunters or something. Maybe we can go with that."

Dean blew out a breath and went to the door with a shake of his head. He knocked loudly. "Guys? It's us. We're coming in." He turned the knob and pushed the door open. Steve and Joe were both standing in the middle of the sitting room. Joe had a throw blanket wrapped around him, and Steve had apparently managed to find the weapons bag as the man was holding one of Dean's own pistols pointed right at the door. "Whoa. Steve. It's ok. It's gone."

Steve put the safety back on the pistol and lowered it. He held it out to Dean and turned a hard look at them. "What the hell was that thing?" He flung a hand toward the bedroom where the duffel bags were. "And why are you two carrying a damn armory! And holy water? What the hell, Dean? Sam? What do you two DO?"

"Oh, man." Sam ran both hands through his hair. He turned and checked the salt line at the door, finding it intact before looking back to them. "It's... complicated."

"Complicated?" Steve demanded. His fear had turned to something close to but not quite anger, but he was holding back, and hoping for some answers that could explain all this. "There a good reason you've seasoned all the damn windows with salt? And the door? We need an explanation, boys, and no crap! I don't think I could take it if you lied to us right now. Start talking." He turned and nudged Joe down onto the couch. "Sit down already and breathe, baby. It's ok."

Joe shook his head but sat. He was shaking and afraid. In truth, he had been ever since the fire. He'd been doing his best to deal with it, but tonight's events had pushed his anxiety into overdrive. "I really need to know what's happening," he said in a soft voice.

Sam sighed. He took his gun back out and left it on the table beside the door, gave a long look to Dean, and went around Steve to the couch. He sat down carefully beside Joe and wrapped his arms around him. "Share the blanket? It was cold out there."

"Yeah." Joe leaned into Sam and knew, contrary to what it looked like, the man was comforting him. "I'm fine."

Sam snorted. "Yeah, me too. Dean?"

"Ah, hell. You're never gonna believe us." Dean sat on the arm of one of the overstuffed chairs and looked up at Steve. "Just... we're still your friends, alright? We're not crazy or... or anything else. Well, maybe we are, but I swear what we do, it's real."

"You're not making any sense." Steve sat on the other side of Joe. He pulled a second blanket from the back of the couch and gave it a flick, settling it over Sam's bare back. "Wrap up already. You're shivering."

Dean watched Sam tug the blanket over his shoulders and looked at Joe and Steve. "We are hunters. We are. We just... don't hunt deer."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Joe asked and leaned harder into Sam when he felt the man shivering against his back.

"I saw something out that window." Steve scrubbed a hand over his face and frowned. "I don't know what it was. It was big and dark and... twisted somehow. And it's eyes... what did I see?"

"There are... things out there." Dean waved a hand generally to mean the world, not just whatever they had chased off. "Monsters. Ghosts. Hell, all of it."

"Monsters?" Joe scowled and craned his head to look at Sam. "Really?"

Sam nodded and tightened his arms around Joe. It was comforting for him just then to hold the man as a chill seemed to sink into his own chest. "Yeah. That's what was outside just now. It's what has been killing people around town, and we think... I think it caused the fire that burned down your club."

"Evil shit is real and we kill it," Dean said simply. He tried a smirk, but the look on Steve's face made him duck his head. "Right. Not the time to make stupid jokes."

"Ghosts are real," Sam said softly. He looked up and met his brother's eyes. "So are demons. I know how that sounds, but we've seen it... them. They killed our..."

"People we loved," Dean finished before Sam mentioned their father and outed them as brothers without realizing. "We've lost family to them. This job, it's dangerous. It gets people hurt, and we've never told you two what we do because we didn't want to risk you getting mixed up in it and added to our list of the dead."

"I'm sorry we've lied." Sam finished. He closed his eyes and turned his head away. "We'll understand if you need us to leave or..."

"Sam." Steve looked over at him, but Sam wouldn't meet his eyes. "Ok, all of this sounds six kinds of crazy, I'll give you that, and under normal circumstances, I'd laugh. But..." he stopped and met Joe's gaze and then Dean's. "I... I don't know what I saw tonight, but I know it wasn't... normal. It looked like..." He blew out a breath and rolled his eyes at himself, hearing how crazy he sounded. "It looked like a monster." He shook his head and shrugged. "If you tell me you can explain this, any of this, then I have to listen. I trust you guys. We trust you."

"We don't normally tell people, you know?" Dean put a finger to his head and circled it meaningfully. "We pretty much get labeled crazies when we try to explain. Even after people have seen shit on their own, most of them rationalize just about anything and blame us for makin' 'em see shit."

"That... that has to be hard." Joe nodded and patted Sam's arm across his chest. "It's kind of like how we can't just tell anyone what we do. Vanilla people, they never understand."

"Yeah, I get that." Dean smiled, glad to find common ground with them on this strange subject. "You're gonna be ok. We're here. And we're really good at what we do. Anything that comes for you is gonna have to come through us first, right, Sammy?" He looked over at his brother, frowned, and then his brows flew up. "Shit." Sam still had his eyes closed and was resting his cheek in Joe's hair. Dean could see the shine of a tear on the curve of his cheek and see a fine tremble running through his body.

"God, Sam. I'm sorry." Dean moved quickly to his brother; wondering how in the hell he had missed the signs. And why he hadn't thought of it after the last time.

"What's wrong?" Steve asked and turned quickly to look at the younger man. His eyes widened as he realized what he was looking at. "God, I should have thought, after what we were doing and then the... the thing interrupting us. Sub drop?"

"Yeah." Dean squeezed Joe's shoulder and hooked a finger toward Steve to get him to move. "Sammy. Hey, baby boy. I got you." He knelt in front of his brother and pulled him in, sliding his arms around his shoulders and over his back. He felt Sam shudder and then collapse against him, burying his face in Dean's neck. He knew that coming out of sub space into the middle of a hunt was a little brutal emotionally for Sam and kicked himself that he hadn't realized it sooner. "Happened once before. We were, well you know." He blushed and looked over at Steve and Joe to find both men smirking. "Had him all tied down and screaming, and this vamp busts in the door. Got Sam loose, but we missed the asshole. We had to chase him down, and then there was a nest and... yeah, we discovered the wonders of sub drop the hard way."

Steve nodded and reached over to brush a hand through Sam's hair. "Bet you're glad I gave you all that information to read now, aren't you?"

Dean smiled and nodded. "Yeah. Thanks for that, by the way." The last time they had visited, Steve had given them both a file folder with his own personal notes on BDSM and how to do it right, including the signs to watch out for 'sub drop', the depressive state a sub could sometimes slip into when the endorphin rush fell away too quickly and how extra care was required to ease them through it. "Sammy?"

"Sorry," Sam muttered into Dean's neck. He felt too humiliated to lift his head and face the other men in the room. He couldn't believe how over emotional he was feeling. Yet even as he thought it, he couldn't stop himself from burying his face further into Dean's throat or the tears that escaped his eyes.

"Hey, none of that." Dean squeezed a hand on the back of his neck above his collar and nuzzled his nose behind Sam's ear. "You haven't done anything wrong. You know what this is. We've done this before." Sam nodded mutely and Dean sighed. "Will you let me help?" Sam gave him another small nod and Dean smiled. The last time, Sam had become angry and pushed him away for a while until Dean had put his foot down and pretty much sat on him, pulling out every trick he knew to make his little brother come and smile again. This teary, clingy response was new, but then, this whole scene was still pretty new to them, and Dean was again grateful to have found new friends to help guide them through these intricacies.

"What do you need?" Steve asked seriously because he knew well that a sub in this state was no joking matter.

Dean considered. He moved, shifting Sam around until he had him standing. "Gonna get these pants off you, buddy, ok?" He nodded to Steve and Joe and let the two men reach out with gentle hands to peel the leather back down his brother's legs. Dean flipped open his own jeans and shoved them down enough to free his cock and then sat on the couch. He was only half hard, but a few minutes of Sam squirming needily in his lap would fix that fast enough. "Come on, Sammy. Come here."

Sam allowed himself to be turned, the blanket pulled away until he was naked but for the collar and he was pulled back to sit with his legs spread wide across Dean's lap. He felt exposed. "Dean."

"Shh. We've got you." Dean tugged and tucked Sam in against him. He slid his hands over his brother's chest and rubbed softly over his nipples, knowing they would still be sensitive. He smiled when Sam let out a shaking breath and relaxed back against his chest. "You good with this? With them being here?" Sam gave him another wordless nod and Dean smiled.

Steve saw that Sam's cock was still hard, thanks to the cock ring they hadn't thought to remove, and knew it had to be bordering on painful, if it wasn't already there. "Joe."

"Yeah." Joe knelt beside them and leaned over to slowly take Sam's cock in his mouth.

Steve smiled at Dean and knelt in front of them between their spread legs. He took the bottle of lube from his pocket again and coated his fingers. He met Sam's eyes when the younger man peeked a look at him and slid his fingers between his legs. "We're just going to make you feel good, Sam."

"Hey." Dean pulled Sam's head around as his brother gasped with Joe's mouth on him. He caught Sam's lips with his own and felt the moment Steve slid a finger inside him. He ate the needy moan out of his brother's mouth and held him close with his arms. Sam began to whine and shift against him, hips beginning to pulse with little movements as he tried to thrust. Dean's dick easily stood to attention with the little noises his brother was making and the shifting of Sam's bare skin against him.

"Cockring," Sam panted into Dean's mouth.

"Not until I'm in you," Dean growled back and smiled when Sam shuddered. He curled his fingers in his brother's collar and helped to guide Sam when Steve began pushing and pulling and urging Sam to lift. Dean moaned when slick fingers wrapped around his own cock and then he was pressed to Sam's entrance.

"Yes, yes, yes," Sam panted desperately, sharing his breath with Dean as his brother's cock slid slowly up into him. He let his head fall back, brushing against Dean's ear and jerked as Dean bit into his throat just below the collar.

Steve leaned down while Dean slowly lifted and lowered Sam on his cock, fucking him deep, with Joe sucking Sam. He bit lightly at Joe's ear to make him moan and then bent further to take one of Sam's balls into his mouth. He could feel Sam's legs trembling against his shoulder but knew this time it was for the right reason as he rode higher and higher toward release.

"Oh, God!" Sam exclaimed as he looked down to see both Joe and Steve's heads between his legs. There was so much stimulation; Dean driving his cock slowly into his prostate, Joe's wicked tongue curling along his length, Steve providing mind-blowing suction around his balls. He was lost to the sensations.

"Now," Dean ordered softly and wrapped Sam up tightly in his arms.

Steve slid his fingers up to Sam's cock, below his lover's mouth. Joe's spit soaked his skin as he sucked up hard, and Steve flicked the cockring open at last. It took both of them to hold Sam's bucking hips and legs as he howled out his orgasm and spasmed atop Dean, arching backward and forcing his chest out. Joe never stopped, sucking relentlessly to draw the pleasure out as long as possible until Sam was screaming, his body one long, shaking arch atop Dean.

"Fuck!" Dean yelled and came with his brother. He couldn't stop himself and filled Sam up with his brother's muscles fluttering and squeezing his cock perfectly. He buried his face in the back of Sam's neck and grunted when Sam went limp against him. "Holy shit."

Steve chuckled and leaned back, wiping his mouth. He set the cockring on the table at the end of the couch and pulled Joe in for a deep kiss. "Good job."

"So not a hardship," Joe returned breathlessly and grinned. "Fuck, I love listening to him fall apart." Helping Sam had the added benefit of settling his own nerves, and he caught Steve's hand to drop a kiss across his knuckles.

"Dean? I'm gonna take Joe back to our rooms and take care of him. We'll...talk more tomorrow." Steve leaned up. He brushed Sam's dark hair from his closed eyes and smiled when Dean's bleary green ones met his finally. "You ok?"

"Yeah." Dean gave the man a tired, lopsided grin. "Hey. In my bag over there's a container of salt."

Steve quirked a brow as he stood and brought Joe up with him, sparing an eye for his lover's hard erection. Thanks to Sam, he had his own making it difficult to walk and was looking forward to sorting them both out, not to mention taking at least a little time to forget the crazy they had somehow found themselves in the middle of that night. "Doors and windows?"

"Yeah." Dean stretched his arm up and brushed his fingers over Joe's cock, making the man shiver. "I can help with that."

"I'm good." Joe smiled and caught Dean's hand, giving it a squeeze. "You take care of him. Next time though, I demand my screaming orgasm."

Steve laughed and pulled him around. He nudged Joe to the bag Dean had mentioned and gave his ass a solid slap when he bent to retrieve the salt so he yelped. "Demand? Get your ass back to our room."

Joe popped up with a grin, shameless, and balancing the salt in his hand. "Yes, sir."

"You see what I have to put up with?" Steve gave a wave to Dean and followed his lover out of the room with a playful snarl.

Dean chuckled softly. He held onto Sam and shifted his hips, slipping out of him with a hiss of discomfort. He felt the rush of his own come and grimaced. "Well, christened the couch, little brother." He smirked and eased Sam around so he could see his face. "Hey, Sammy. You gonna come back to me now?" Dean rubbed his hand soothingly up and down the center of Sam's chest and bent his head to kiss and nuzzle at his jaw. A moment later, Sam moaned softly and turned his head before his eyes were even open in a silent plea. Dean grinned and kissed him properly.

"Mmm, Dean." Sam opened his eyes slowly and smiled, finding his brother still wrapped around him.

"Hey. How you feelin'?" Dean curled his hand around the cut of Sam's hip and watched his eyes.

Sam smiled and turned sluggishly until he could wrap both arms around Dean's shoulders and kiss him back. "M'good."

"Think you can get to the bathroom so we can clean up?" Dean smirked when Sam gave him a disgusted face.

"I'm not broken, dude." Sam disentangled himself from Dean slowly and stood on wobbly legs. He didn't argue when Dean stood with him and held on to his arm. "Wow. That was one hell of an orgasm. Maybe we should hunt monsters in the middle of sex more often."

Dean chuckled and shadowed his brother into the bedroom and through to the bath. He followed Sam in and stopped him when Sam reached for the shower. "Let me." Dean eased Sam to the counter and bent him slowly over it. He grabbed a washcloth and wet it with warm water, then went to his knees behind his brother.

Sam shivered and smiled, no longer embarrassed when Dean did this for him; cleaning him up. It just felt like he was incredibly cared for and loved. He smiled again when he felt Dean's lips leave a tender kiss on the small of his back and then Dean was pulling him up. "Thank you."

Dean kissed him slowly and pulled him out of the bathroom. He yanked the blankets back off the huge bed and followed Sam in, catching the light and turning that off before he wrapped himself around Sam. He pulled his brother's back against his chest and held him tight. "You alright, little brother?"

Sam nodded, let out a long breath and relaxed into Dean's hold. "Yeah. I'm good now." He shook his head. "Sorry about..."

"Nope. You don't apologize for that. You know that." Dean held him tighter and kissed behind his ear. "Not your fault, Sam."

"Or yours," Sam pointed out and finally allowed himself to relax completely.

"We'll figure everything else out tomorrow." Dean rested his hand over Sam's heart and let it soothe him. "Get some sleep."

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-** _

Sam was up before anyone else, even Dean. He felt energized, probably on account of the impressive orgasm his brother and Steve and Joe had given him. He smiled as he tugged on the laces of his sneakers and adjusted the strap of the ankle holster under the leg of his sweats. Sam gave Dean a last glance through the bedroom door and headed out for a run. He'd gotten out of the habit for a while, but after their father died, he'd felt the need again. He stepped out into the cool morning air, took a few minutes to stretch, and then started off in a jog toward the gate.

Running helped to center his mind. It was calming and peaceful; just him and the slap of his sneakers against the ground. Sam breathed deeply as he built up speed and turned to run along the interior of the wall surrounding the house. He could feel his sneakers getting damp from the morning dew as he ran, and even as the familiar sense of peace flowed through him, he kept his eyes on the area around him, mindful of the fact that there was a creature somewhere nearby and it had paid them a visit not ten hours before.

Sam turned the corner and moved between the tall trees and the wall. He flicked his eyes up as he moved and back to the trees warily, but there was nothing to see. He picked up his pace, reaching the back of the property and skimmed around a thick stand of tall lilac bushes, long out of bloom. He sped up a little more, digging his sneakers into the grass with each step and could feel the sweat beginning to drip down his chest and back under his shirt. He turned the third corner. The house came back into his line of sight as he did, and Sam slid to a stop in surprise. There was a large patio off the back of the house that he hadn't seen last night, and his brother and Joe both stood there watching him. Sam flushed when Joe wolf-whistled at him.

Dean watched his brother jog slowly across the wide lawn to them and chuckled at the red in his cheeks. He held out one of the two mugs of coffee he held when Sam reached them. "Mornin', Sammy."

"Well, that's a sight I could get used to waking up to," Joe observed, not even trying to hide the lascivious look on his face as he took in Sam hot, sweaty, and panting. He grinned.

"Uh, morning." Sam ignored the cup of coffee and instead bent to stretch out his legs.

"How long you been out here?" Dean asked. He was a little miffed at himself that he hadn't woken when Sam had left the bed and had been relieved to look out the window and see his brother passing in a blur.

"Not long." Sam straightened and shrugged. He took the coffee then with a nod of thanks and sipped gratefully. "Didn't even get one circuit of the house in."

"You find anything?" Dean quirked a brow at him knowingly.

Sam laughed. "No. I didn't see anything out of place." He nudged Dean's ankle with his right foot, the one with the ankle holster, subtly letting him know he was armed and saw the slight frown between his brother's eyes relax.

"I figure we should call Bobby." Dean looked over at Joe and smiled. "He's our friend- well, kinda like a grumpy father figure."

Sam snorted. "I'm tellin' him you said he was grumpy."

"Oh, like he doesn't know." Dean rolled his eyes fondly. "Anyway, if anyone will have an idea what we're dealing with here, it's him."

"I still can't quite wrap my head around what you guys do." Joe shook his head and held up a hand. "I'm not saying I think you're lying or making this shit up; I'm just saying it's weird as fuck and... I don't even know."

"Don't worry about it." Sam smiled and rested a hand on Joe's shoulder for a moment. "If we do our job right, you'll never see the thing and you can go on living in blissful ignorance."

"Yeah." Joe blew out a breath and looked out across the lawn to the trees and wall. "Think I'd rather know what's out there. I mean, beats the hell out of getting eaten and not knowing." He turned back and looked at Dean. "Last night, you said... well, you said 'vamp'. I'm guessing that actually means..."

"Vampire. Yeah." Dean smirked. "Hollywood's mostly got that one wrong. All a stake to the heart does to those guys is piss 'em off. They don't sparkle, either."

"Vampires." Joe shook his head again and headed back to the house. "Fucking vampires."

Sam watched him go and sipped his coffee again. "I know it's not our fault really that they're finding out about this stuff, but I still feel like it is. I feel like an asshole, like we've ruined their lives a little."

"No, we didn't." Dean gave Sam a nudge toward the house. "If we hadn't come here, that thing would still be killing people, and one or both of them might have ended up on the kill list. I'd rather read them into the crazy, than leave them in the dark and have them get dead because of it."

Sam nodded. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

"Of course I'm right. I'm older and wiser."

Sam pulled open the door and looked at his brother over his shoulder. "Well, you're half right, old man."

"Hey!" Dean caught Sam in a headlock and pulled his head down into his chest. "That's it." He shifted to the side as both their cups tipped and coffee spilled out onto the deck.

"Jerk!" Sam gasped a laugh and resisted the urge to drop his mug and catch Dean off guard. He didn't want to break it.

Dean laughed. "Bitch."

"Am I interrupting something?" Steve asked with a laugh, watching Dean hastily release Sam when the younger man rammed a well-placed elbow into his solar plexus.

"Oof. Asshole," Dean gasped. He rubbed his stomach and flipped off his laughing brother.

"So I'm guessing you guys aren't planning on trying the 24/7 sub thing anytime soon," Steve observed quirking an eyebrow at Sam.

"Morning, Steve." Sam said cheerfully. "In his dreams." He held out his now empty mug. "Coffee?"

"Through here." Steve shook his head fondly and led them through to the big kitchen. "I know it seems like an excessive kitchen to have but remember it's for the club."

Sam nodded and gave a low whistle as he took in all the gleaming chrome, counters, three stove tops, a stacked trio of ovens, and a refrigerator that looked like it could hold half a cow. "Wow."

"Coffee." Joe rose and held out a half-full pot to Sam.

"Thanks." Sam let him fill his mug and sat down at the long bar. He stretched his legs out to either side and sipped at the brew gratefully.

"Well, I did find something while you were communing with nature." Dean smirked at his brother. "That thing left footprints outside our room."

"What?" Steve said, shocked.

Dean nodded soberly. "Found 'em just under the window in the living room. Maybe they were there already or maybe it came back after we went back inside. I don't know, but I don't like it."

"Shit." Sam stared down into his coffee. "I could really use Bobby's reference library."

"Well, let's call him." Dean took his phone out of his pocket and dialed. It rang and Dean smiled when he heard the older hunter's voice. "Hey, Bobby. Sam and I caught wind of a job, but we're not sure what the thing is. We could use some of your awesome research skills."

Bobby chuckled over the line. "You butterin' me up boy? Must be a doozie. What do ya' got?"

Dean tipped the phone, put it on speaker, and set it on the bar. "Not a whole lot."

"Morning, Bobby," Sam said with a smile. "We don't have much. It's killed a few times. Been circling in the same area, and we got a crap look at it last night."

"Yeah; didn't see much other than big, dark, and I'm gonna call it Quasimodo 'cause that bitch was twisted." Dean chuckled when Sam rolled his eyes.

"Where were you last night when you saw it?" Bobby asked and pulled over his laptop.

"Uh..." Dean stared at the phone and it suddenly dawned on him that they couldn't tell him the whole truth without outing themselves. He met Sam's eyes and saw an answering fear there. They really hadn't thought this through before Dean called, and his eyes skittered across Joe and Steve and the spit dried in his mouth. "We uh..."

"Our motel is next door to a uh, a strip club." Sam shrugged and looked over at Steve apologetically for the falsehood. He was relieved when Steve snorted a laugh and waved a hand dismissively. He didn't mind. "And there was a fire too at the club. A few weeks ago."

"Huh."

"What's 'huh' mean?" Dean asked and leaned toward the phone to hear better. "You got something already?"

"Those deaths. Anything special about the bodies after it got through with them?"

Sam frowned at Bobby's question. "The reports said the bodies have been partially eviscerated and the coroner couldn't be sure some of the, uh..." Sam looked apologetically to Steve and Joe. "... the entrails might have been ingested or taken away."

They listened, hearing the steady tap-tap of the keys on Bobby's laptop for several minutes. Dean sighed and tapped his fingers on the bar. "Bobby?"

"Keep yer' damn pantyhose on, son." Bobby's voice carried gruff affection even through the phone.

Sam chuckled and saw the amusement on Steve and Joe's faces as well. "Stop annoying Bobby, Dean."

"Bite me, Sammy."

"Shut up, you two. I got a pattern here." Bobby smirked at the usual banter and looked at his screen. "I got kills going back forty years, always ascribed to some unnamed wild animal." He shook his head. "Can't believe no other hunters have figured this out before now. Gimme a couple hours to dig and I'll get back to ya'."

"Thanks, Bobby." Sam smiled, relieved.

"Whatever this is, I expect you two idjits to stay the hell outta it's way 'til you know how to kill it," Bobby said firmly. "Dean, take care of your brother. Later boys."

Sam's mouth dropped open in shock as Dean slapped a hand out to end the call too late and stared at him in horror. As one, they turned their heads to look at Joe and Steve and Sam had a sudden urge to throw up. Bobby had unwittingly outed them as brothers. "Uh, it's not... this isn't..."

"We're..." Dean couldn't think of what to say any more than Sam could. He cleared his throat and looked at the surprise on both men's faces. "Yeah, we're brothers, ok? But it's not sick or wrong or any other damn thing, and if you want us to go, then tell us now."

Steve looked between them and his gaze settled firmly on the younger. "Jesus, Sam. Breathe. Come on." He went to Sam and slid a hand along his jaw, tipping his face up to look at him on the bar stool. "Hey, it's alright. Just breathe."

Sam was caught in a panic. The only thing he could think of that would be worse than this would be if Bobby were to ever find out. His breath was catching in his throat, and he looked over at Dean like he was seeking a lifeline.

"Hey. Hey." Dean moved quickly around the counter and pulled Sam up. He slid an arm around Sam's waist and shifted his brother slightly behind him protectively. "It's ok, Sam. It's gonna be ok."

"No. It's not," Sam said softly. He couldn't bear to see any sort of hate or disgust in Steve's or Joe's eyes so he turned his head away and buried his face behind Dean's neck.

"Alright, you both need to calm down." Joe held out his hands and flicked a glance to Steve who gave him a nod. They were both overcome with concern for the severity of the boys' reaction, especially Sam, but really, he couldn't blame them. It was a hell of a secret to have blurted out like that, and most people _wouldn't_ understand or even try to. "We already knew."

Dean went still in shock and he felt Sam jerk in surprise against him, but his brother's breathing was still a frantic gasp for air against his skin. Dean frowned slightly at that, but was too startled by Joe's revelation to fully register why. "You... what?"

Steve smiled warmly. He went to the brothers and put a hand on each of their shoulders. "The last time you two were on stage. The whip?" He nodded when he saw the recognition in Dean's eyes. "After, when we were getting you off the stage, Dean... you called Sam 'little brother'. I mean, you whispered it, but we were right there." He saw Dean shudder and squeezed the man's shoulder. "I won't lie. It threw me a little."

"Us," Joe amended, but he smiled to make sure Dean knew he was alright.

"I realized it doesn't change a damn thing," Steve said firmly. "You two are so in love with each other and, honestly, the more I thought about it, the more I figured I'd known all along you were something more than just lovers. I mean, the depth of your connection to each other..." he shook his head with a wondering smile. "Devotion doesn't even begin to cover it. And the love you two have is so damn pure and amazing, I can't fault it. No matter what." He blew out a breath and reached up to tug on Sam's hair a little. He smiled again when Sam finally, slowly lifted his head and looked at him with fearful eyes.

"What I'm trying to say here is, we don't care. We just couldn't think of a good way to bring something like that up to let you know we knew. I'm sorry." Steve brushed his knuckles across Sam's jaw comfortingly. "Nothing's changed, except now you don't have to hide anything with us, alright?"

Joe sniffed, took a deep breath, and couldn't take the tension anymore. He moved around Steve and wrapped both brothers up in a tight hug, grabbing Sam's head and pulling it down to his own. "Please stop hyperventilating now? You're freakin' me out."

Sam was startled into a watery laugh and wrapped his free arm around Joe to pull him in tighter. "Ok."

Dean's whole body shuddered with relief and he didn't resist when Steve chuckled and came in on his other side to hug him too. He gave himself a moment of weakness and let his head drop to Steve's shoulder. "Killin' my chick flick quota for a damn year here, guys."

Sam's knees went weak and he slumped. His head spun dizzily and he couldn't argue with the voices talking over him when he was turned and dragged to a chair, pushed down into it and held. He felt Dean's arms wind firmly around him and his face was pushed into his brother's neck. The smell of Dean's skin helped bring him back and he could finally hear his brother again.

"Sammy, it's ok. Come on, just breathe for me, little brother."

Sam shivered, hearing that spoken aloud in a room with others and he lifted his head at last to look into Dean's worried, green eyes. "Sorry." He cleared his throat and looked up at Steve and Joe's concerned faces and then back to Dean. "It's just... someone knows." He felt tears gathering in his eyes and scowled, trying to keep them at bay, but they fell anyway to roll down his cheeks. "Someone knows and they don't hate us." Sam knew on some level that he was overreacting emotionally, but it felt like a damn had broken somewhere in his heart, that little niggling fear he lived with every single day, and at least, in this place, he no longer had to fear that. They knew and they accepted them anyway.

"I know," Dean said softly while Sam's breath hitched and fresh tears coursed down his little brother's cheeks. Even for Sam, this was oddly emo, but it was a huge step to have someone actually know about them and not care. He smoothed Sam's hair from his face with an understanding smile before he looked up at the other two men. "I uh, I don't think you have any idea what that means to us, that you don't, you know, think we're freaks." His own voice was gruff with emotion and just managed not to let his own relieved tears fall.

"Oh, you're freaks," Steve said with an easy smile. It touched his heart to see that relief in both men's eyes; to know that he and Joe were giving them something special that they would likely find few other places. They deserved that peace of mind and more if even half of what they said was true. And he was beginning to believe that it was. He smirked. "I mean, come on. You hunt monsters for a living! But, then, we're freaks too. The best possible kind. Now come on. I think we all need some more coffee."

"And a group cuddle on the couch," Joe added and then threw his hands up when all three men stared at him. "What? I had to try."

"You're hopeless." Steve snorted and slapped the back of Joe's shoulder. "Go pour the coffee while I get the muffins out of the oven."

Dean watched them move away and knew the two men were giving him and Sam a few moments to collect themselves. "Sammy?"

"Yeah, I'm ok." Sam nodded. He rubbed his hands over his face, taking the tears away and felt his cheeks burn, embarrassed at having been so emotional. "Dammit."

"Hey." Dean rubbed his thumb back and forth across Sam's cheek and gave him a lopsided smile. "Pretty sure we can chalk this breakdown up to the sub drop last night. Don't worry about it."

Sam chuckled and let his head tip forward, resting his forehead against his brother's. "We're gonna do that again, right?" He leaned back and gave Dean a heated look. "Because I really, really liked you watching while Steve owned my ass."

Dean shuddered and had to press a hand to his crotch to back down the sudden erection Sam's words had caused. "You asshole," he said with a laugh and stood. "After we gank the nasty. Then I'm gonna make you pay for that." He smirked. "Or rather, I'm gonna make Steve make you pay for that."

"Fuck, yes." Sam grinned and stood.

"What am I making Sam pay for?" Steve called, turning around from the oven with a steaming tray of muffins. "And please tell me it involves tying him down and spanking him until he can't remember anything but 'please' and 'fuck'." He watched Sam shiver, Dean laugh, and then he nodded; satisfied.

"Oh, you're good." Dean gave Sam a gentle push toward the counter.

"So what now?" Joe slid two cups of coffee to the brothers and smiled, watching them sit in unison and the way they unconsciously leaned into each other's space. They were beautiful and he dared anyone to say otherwise. "I mean, this Bobby, is he going to be able to figure this out?"

Sam nodded fervently. "No one does research like Bobby."

"Except you," Dean said loyally.

Sam smiled. "Bobby's got the best damn library there is for the supernatural."

"Sam caresses the books." Dean shrugged when Sam glared at him. "What? It's the truth. Dude, sometimes I get jealous."

Steve and Joe both laughed at the scandalized expression on Sam's face. "You know, I can see it." Steve snorted when Sam's eyes snapped to his and then rolled. "Somehow, I always knew you were the bookish one."

"Bookish." Joe's eyes gave a roll of their own and dropped onto the stool beside Sam, draping an arm over his shoulders. "That man doesn't read actual books because, and I quote, the paper feels weird on his fingers." He grinned when Steve snarled at him melodramatically. "If he can't read it on the computer, he won't read it."

"You do remember that I know how to tie you down and make sure you never get free, right?" Steve threatened and held up a muffin. "Also, I can withold muffins."

"You wouldn't." Joe leaned abruptly over the counter and batted his eyes at his partner. "I love you and your crazy, tech-obsessed ways."

"Luddite," Steve snorted and handed over the muffin.

Dean laughed along with his brother and sipped his coffee as he felt their world slip back into its place. He let out a long, slow breath of relief. He knew exactly how overcome Sam had felt and, in fact, needing to calm Sam had been the only thing that kept him from having a meltdown of his own. He'd just save that for later when he was alone. "Got any pie?"

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Sam grunted under the weight of an old love seat and set it down on the floor with a loud thump. "This is really why you called. You needed menial laborers."

Joe laughed. He dusted his hands off and leaned back from pulling at the carpet in the corner of the disused bedroom. "Well, you did say you wanted to help with the renovation."

Sam smiled, shaking his head and picked up the end of the love seat again. "Next time I'm keeping my mouth shut. And why isn't Dean up here?"

"Because you thought helping me would be easier than knocking down walls with Steve and beat your brother at rock-paper-scissors." Joe snickered.

"Shut up," Sam grumbled warmly and smiled. He could hear the steady bangs and thumps from the floor just below them where Dean was cave-manning his way through another wall to open up the center of the first floor. Helping Steve and Joe get the house ready for the remodel was helping them all to kill time until Bobby called back with the information they needed. "Where do you want this one?"

Joe glanced at the little couch and shook his own head. "Far room down at the end of the hall. Don't wanna keep that one. Well, unless Steve has a moment and suddenly decides he likes the paisley. He does that sometimes." He chuckled and hooked a thumb over his shoulder. "He's down the other end of the house in one of the parlor's we're going to refit."

"Got it." Sam dragged the heavy couch out into the hall and down to the last room. He shoved open the door with his hip and found the room already had a mismatched collection of furniture destined for the landfill. "Alright." He took a deep breath and pulled, groaning as he finally got it through the door and settled it near the wall. He brushed off his hands and shoved his hair out of his eyes as he went back out. He wiped an arm over his brow to stop the beads of sweat from running into his eyes and tugged at his damn t-shirt. "Going to find Steve," he called in to Joe as he passed that room and got a disgruntled curse in reply. He chuckled, glad he wasn't the one arguing with the old carpeting.

Unlike the first floor that was well-cleaned and ready to be renovated, the second floor of the house had definitely been left alone for a long time. There were still dust covers over the furniture in most of the rooms, and most of that was original from the last owners of the home, whoever they had been.

"Hey, Steve?" Sam called as he moved down the long hall. He turned the corner and saw the light above him flicker. He reached up and was able to catch it with his fingers, giving the bulb a quick twist and making it burn steadily again. "Being a sasquatch is good for something," Sam muttered to himself bemusedly.

Sam blew on his fingers, warmed a little too much by the bulb and saw the door at the end of the hall swing open. He smiled. "Steve!" Sam jogged the last few feet and stepped into the room. He frowned. There was no Steve, and nothing, in fact, except for a bedroom whose furniture was hidden under dusty cloths. "Steve?" Sam shook his head, looking around the room and at the two doors to either side. "Dude, if you're screwing with..." his voice trailed off in surprise as he looked down at his bare arms and watched the hairs rise up. A shiver went down Sam's back just as he felt the temperature in the room plummet.

"No way," Sam breathed, shocked as his breath plumed out in front of his face in a cloud. He backed up warily. "There's a ghost?" Sam turned, knowing he had to find his brother and more importantly, get Steve and Joe safe. He shook his head. "A fucking ghost! Really?" As if in answer, the door behind him swung hard and slammed into Sam's back. He was propelled out through the door, into the hall and headfirst into the opposite wall. Sam slid to the floor in a daze and curled an arm around his aching head. He groaned and tried to roll to his side. "Dean," he gasped softly and felt an electric charge begin to build in the air around him even as his head swam dangerously. He took a deep breath, knowing it was going to send his head spinning and shouted for help. "Dean!"

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_To Be Continued..._


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Just... just remember how much you love me, ok? *snicker*
> 
> Graphic depictions within. Beta'd by the always awesome JaniceC678
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own 'em but if I did, they'd never get dressed.
> 
> ~Reviews are love~

 

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_"Steve!" Sam jogged the last few feet and stepped into the room. He frowned. There was no Steve, and nothing in fact except for a bedroom whose furniture was hidden under dusty cloths. "Steve?" Sam shook his head, looking around the room and at the two doors to either side. "Dude, if you're screwing with..." his voice trailed off in surprise as he looked down at his bare arms and watched the hairs rise up. A shiver went down Sam's back just as he felt the temperature in the room plummet._

_"No way," Sam breathed; shocked as his breath plumed out in front of his face in a cloud. He backed up warily. "There's a ghost?" Sam turned, knowing he had to find his brother and more importantly, get Steve and Joe safe. "A fucking ghost!" As if in answer, the door behind him swung hard and slammed into Sam's back. He was propelled out through the door, into the hall and headfirst into the opposite wall. Sam slid to the floor in a daze and curled an arm around his aching head in a daze. He groaned and tried to roll to his side. "Dean," he gasped softly and felt an electric charge begin to build in the air around him even as his head swam dangerously. He took a deep breath, knowing it was going to send his head spinning and shouted for help. "Dean!"_

**Chapter 3**

Joe braced his knees on the floor, grabbed hold of the edge of the old, musty carpet and heaved backwards with a loud groan. He thumped onto the floor on his ass in a cloud of dust and sneezed explosively. "Shit." He laughed, coughed and clapped his hands to knock more dust loose. "Starting to think I should have grabbed a sledgehammer with Dean." He got back to his knees and pulled on the newly loosened carpet, revealing old floorboards beneath it. He cocked his head when he thought he heard a couple loud bangs, and then Sam's voice in the hall. He let the carpet go and climbed to his feet. He reached down to dust dirt and grime from his jeans and staggered in surprise when he heard Sam's voice raised in a cry, calling for his brother.

"Sam?" Joe ran out into the hall and started down the hall. "Sam! What's wrong?" There was no answer, and a frisson of fear ran through his stomach. He broke into a run and stopped at the stairs for just a moment. "DEAN!" he bellowed and then ran on toward where he'd sent Sam after his partner. "Steve? Are you guys alright?" Joe turned the corner and stared in surprise when he found Sam lying on the hallway floor in a heap against the wall.

"Oh, shit! Sam!" Joe slid to his knees beside the man and gently tipped him up so he could see his face. He looked around the hall helplessly. "Steve! Where are you?" He heard booted feet pounding up the stairs, and a moment later, Dean and Steve both appeared at the end of the hall. "Oh, thank God," he breathed and slumped a little in relief.

"Sammy?" Dean ran to his brother and quickly pulled Sam up into his arms, resting against his bent knee. "Jesus, he's out cold." He brushed his fingers over a red mark high on Sam's forehead that was darkening already and would be an impressive bruise later. "What the hell happened?" He looked up and saw a dent in the wall a few feet up and shook his head.

"I don't know!" Joe shrugged and leaned back into Steve when he felt the man's hand on his shoulder. "I heard a bang, and then Sam called for you and I found him like this." He turned and craned his head around to look up at Steve. "I thought you were up here."

"I was. I went down to see if Dean needed any help." Steve ran his fingers back through his blonde hair and stared worriedly at Sam who had yet to move. He patted his pockets and groaned. "Left my phone downstairs. I'm gonna call an ambulance."

Dean's gut reaction was to say no, that he could handle it. But Sam hadn't stirred or made any indication he was any kind of conscious. Dean was worried. "Ok." Sam needed a hospital.

"Why do I get the feeling you guys don't really do hospitals unless it's really, really bad?" Joe asked and took up one of Sam's hands to hold it as Steve ran back to the stairs.

Dean snorted softly and carded his fingers through Sam's hair. "Half the time, there's no good way to explain whatever injuries we have. I mean, there's really no mundane explanation for the bite marks a vamp leaves." He smiled sadly. "And the other half, well, the proper authorities mostly think we're criminals for one reason or another. Not like we can say we dug up and desecrated a grave to stop a ghost."

"Grave desecration?" Joe chuckled and shook his head. "So what were you guys really doing when Steve called you? He said you told him you were hunting."

"We were." Dean shrugged and smirked. "It was a bloody bones. Big motherfucker and a giant pain in my ass." He rubbed a hand over his chest for a moment. "Last time we hunted one, things went sideways. I got zapped. Ended up in the hospital." He looked down at his brother and pulled Sam a little closer. "Almost died. Sam saved me."

"Jesus." Joe found it hard to even imagine the kind of lives these two must lead on the fringe of civilization and in the shadows. "I should have stayed with him. I should have done... something."

Dean watched Joe pull Sam's hand to his chest and stare miserably down at his brother. "Hey. This ain't your fault, man." He frowned a little, wondering at the strength of Joe's reaction, remembering Sam's earlier in the day and the night before, but Steve returned at a run and distracted him. "They coming?"

"Yeah. They're on their way." Steve stopped and knelt beside Joe. "Hey. Come on. Sam's gonna be fine." He pulled his partner in and rubbed a hand through his hair. "Take it easy, baby."

"Sorry." Joe sniffed and shook his head at himself. "Just, I feel like I should have done something."

"We don't even know what happened yet." Dean smiled over at Joe. "It's not the first time Sam's been knocked out. Hell, we don't even keep count anymore. Our line of work, getting cracked in the head is an occupational hazard. He's gonna be fine. I promise." He said it as much to reassure himself as Joe but was relieved when Joe seemed to uncurl a little and even managed a small smile. He looked back to his brother and pulled him in a little closer to his chest. "Come on, Sammy. Wake up for me."

Steve looked at Dean. "Do you think - did that...thing, whatever it is, get in here and hurt him?"

Dean looked around, puzzled. He could see into the room, and while there was a haphazard collection of furniture, there were no signs of a struggle, and the windows were not broken. In the fine layer of dust that had settled on the floor from their construction work, he could see only Sam's boot prints. "I don't think so. We know downstairs is secure, and it doesn't look like anything's really disturbed up here."

But if not that, then what? Could Sam have stumbled or tripped and fallen into the wall hard enough to knock himself out? Dean supposed it was possible, if improbable. More likely – and much more disturbing – Sam had had one of his increasingly bad reactions to a vision and collapsed, striking his head in the process. That, however, was not something he was about to bring up just then. Steve and Joe were probably stretched to their limit of acceptance for Winchester weirdness.

Things seemed to go in a blur after that with Steve rushing back downstairs to lead the paramedics up to them, watching his brother's limp body lifted onto the gurney, the ride in the back of the ambulance because Dean couldn't leave him alone, and the interminable waiting in the emergency room while they poked and prodded, took x-rays, and did scans.

Dean sat in a chair at the side of Sam's bed holding his hand and felt the moment it twitched in his grasp. "Sammy?" Dean lunged up and leaned over his brother's head, curving a hand around his jaw. He smiled, relieved, as Sam's eyes slowly fluttered open. "Hey, buddy. About time you rejoined the damn party. How you feelin'?"

"Uh." Sam looked up at Dean and frowned. "What?"

Dean chuckled. He relaxed and sat on the side of the bed. "You're in the hospital. Do you remember what happened?"

Sam closed his eyes and tried to remember why his head hurt so much but nothing would come clear in his foggy brain. "I don't know. I... was helping Joe?"

"Yeah." Dean nodded. "After that."

"There's nothing." Sam groaned and raised a hand to his forehead. "I hate concussions."

"Yeah, you're the proud recipient." Dean lightly brushed his fingers beside the dark bruise at Sam's hairline. "You've been out for about five hours. You're good, though," he said quickly when Sam startled and his eyes shot open. "Promise. The doc said you didn't shake anything important loose."

"Well, that's not quite how I phrased it." Dr. Waters smiled as she came into the room and heard the tail end of their conversation. She brushed a lock of red hair behind her ear and stood beside the bed to smile down at her patient. "Hello, Sam. Nice to meet you finally. I'm Dr. Waters."

"Uh, hi." Sam smiled up at her.

"You have a grade two concussion. Your brother assures me you've had one before." Dr. Waters smiled again when Sam rolled his eyes and then groaned, slamming his eyes closed. "Yeah, might not want to roll those eyes of yours for a couple days."

Dean chuckled and squeezed Sam's hand. "That's gonna be a problem for him."

"Well, he's a little brother. Mine never stops rolling his eyes either." Dr. Waters grinned over at Dean conspiratorially and then pulled her stethoscope from around her neck. "Let me just check your vitals, Sam, and then we can probably discharge you. You know the drill; headaches, confusion, nau..."

"Nausea, disorientation, blurry vision. If any of these symptoms persist or bleeding occurs from the eyes or ears, or the patient loses consciousness for an extended period of time and is unable to be woken up, seek immediate medical attention." Sam finished for her blandly and then smirked. "Yeah. I've uh, had a concussion before." He slapped his brother's arm when Dean snickered at that.

"Makes my life easier. Ok then." Dr. Waters rubbed the stethoscope between her hands to warm it up and nodded to Dean to move aside. "Here we go."

Dean eased off the bed and back into his chair while the doctor tugged Sam's gown gently down his shoulders and proceeded to listen to his heart and lungs. "You're sure he's ok, though? Nothing else wrong with him? Apart from being an overgrown pain in my ass."

"Shut up." Sam scowled over his brother and raised his middle finger at Dean's snort of laughter.

Dr. Waters laughed and leaned back, letting Sam pull the gown back up to his neck. She watched his fingers reach his bare throat and then grasp, settling against his neck while his eyes went wide. "Sam?"

"My uh... where's my..." Sam felt panic with the realization that his collar was no longer around his neck. He missed the weight of it and felt like something crucial was missing, almost like he'd lost a limb.

"Hey. I've got it." Dean grabbed Sam's hand again and smiled to reassure him. "They took it off in the E.R. I've got it in my jacket. It's not lost."

Sam let out a long, shuddering breath and closed his eyes. "Ok."

Dr. Waters smiled at the brothers and patted Sam's shoulder. "To answer your question, no. He has a mild chemical imbalance right now, endorphins, serotonin. They're lower than they should be, so don't be surprised if he has some issues the next few days with depression and a mild emotional imbalance. It's probably just a side effect of the concussion. We see it sometimes. It'll sort itself out as his injury heals and he'll be right as rain in no time."

"Huh. So, more emo than normal." Dean smirked. "Not sure I'd even notice."

"Soon as I get out of this bed, I'm kicking your ass." Sam scowled over at his brother and then looked back to the doctor who was carefully wiping a smirk from her own face. "Can I go now?"

"Yeah, you can." Dr. Waters hung her stethoscope back around her neck and headed for the door. "I'll send a nurse in with your discharge papers and a prescription for some pain medication. You're gonna have a hell of a headache for a few days."

"Thanks, doc." Dean waved her out and sat on the side of the bed again. He pulled his jacket over and tugged out his brother's brown, woven elephant hair collar. He smiled when Sam's eyes misted over and his brother reached out to run his fingers over it. "Like I'd let anything happen to this."

"Thank you." Sam took his brother's arm and let Dean help him up so he was sitting. The room swam a little but slowly righted itself. He rested his forehead on Dean's shoulder while he felt the collar sliding against his skin, and Dean's fingers retying the knots at the back of his neck. "Shit."

Dean settled the collar at the base of Sam's throat where it belonged and gently tipped his brother's head back. He leaned his own down and brushed their lips together warmly. "You're ok."

"Dean," Sam gasped into his brother's mouth and tensed. "What if someone sees?"

"Don't care," Dean said forcefully and kissed Sam in earnest. He cradled Sam's face in one hand and curled the fingers of the other beneath the collar, kissing him until Sam was panting and a soft moan escaped into his mouth. Dean smiled and rested their foreheads together while his own nerves finally settled now that Sam was awake and alright. "That's better." He leaned back after a moment with a grin. "You should keep the hospital gown. We could play doctor sometime."

There was a soft knock at the door, and Dean moved back from his brother, trying to look less like he'd just kissed him senseless before the door opened. "Come in!"

"Hey, Dean. Sam!" Joe grinned when he saw the younger Winchester sitting up in the bed and awake. He rushed over and threw his arms around Sam's neck, holding on tight. "Holy shit, man. You scared the crap outta me."

Sam chuckled and hugged Joe back. "Yeah, uh... sorry about that."

"It's good to see you awake." Steve grinned as he followed Joe to the bed and settled for clasping Sam's shoulder while Joe continued to violently hug him. "Joe, man. Let him breathe before he ends up unconscious again."

Sam laughed and sucked in a grateful breath when Joe finally sat back. The headache pounding behind his eyes was making its way toward tear-inducing, and he blinked to clear his vision. "I'm ok. I'm even getting out of here."

"Yeah, we're bustin' him out." Dean's shrewd eyes missed nothing of Sam's pain and he sighed. "Either of you have sunglasses on you? Sam's gonna need 'em once we get outside."

"I do." Steve pulled a pair of mirrored glasses from his pocket and waved them.

"His Ponchorello glasses," Joe said with a snort. "Seriously, looks like he should be riding a motorcycle on the set of CHIPS when he wears those things."

"You want a concussion too?" Steve asked and slapped Joe playfully up the back of the head. "Because I can arrange that."

"Where are my clothes?" Sam asked and pulled the thin blanket off his legs. Now that he knew he was alright and cleared to leave, he really wanted to be out of the hospital. In his mind, he couldn't help but remember the last time he'd seen their father on the floor as he died, or Dean, so still and lifeless in that hospital bed that he'd been barely able to breathe past the pain in his chest. The light and the antiseptic smell, the soft, rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor beside his bed all served to drive him back there suddenly. "I'm ready to go."

"Yeah, ok." Dean frowned and recognized a sort of contained panic on Sam's face. That and the sudden spike in the heart monitor told him something was wrong. "Sammy?"

Sam shook his head and swung his legs over the side of the bed, grateful when Steve caught his shoulder to steady him as he swayed. He looked up at Dean bleakly and cleared his throat. "Dad," was all he said as he started pulling the leads to the monitors off his chest.

Dean sucked in a breath and blew it back out slowly. He nodded and went to the little cupboard across the room, pulling out Sam's clothes and brought them back over. "You weren't this freaked the last time we were in a hospital."

Sam snorted softly and let Dean ease his jeans up his legs for him. "Last time, I was heavily drugged after someone tried to crack my head open in the bathtub having acrobatic shower sex."

That startled a laugh out of Dean and he looked up at Sam with a grin while he eased his sneakers on. "Dude, we have to try that again." He was happy that Sam seemed to be making an effort to snap himself out of the bad place his memories had gone.

Steve looked over at Joe and saw an answering confusion. He met Dean's gaze and raised his brows. "Can we ask... what happened to your dad?"

"It's... he..." Dean stood and waited for Sam to zip up his jeans before handing him his t-shirt. He shook his head. "It's complicated. We were in a hospital after a wreck after a... a demon rammed us with a semi. He was fine and then he wasn't." He caught Sam's shoulder when his brother bowed his head. "Sam found him. It's complicated."

Sam closed a hand around Dean's wrist for a moment, just to feel the soft thrum of his heartbeat there and then shook himself. "Sorry. I'm ok. I'm good."

Dean watched him pull his shirt on and nodded. He ran a hand through his hair and smiled weakly. "It was a bad time for us." He couldn't allow himself to think too hard right then about what he believed Dad had done in order to save him. The thought of their father making a deal with that yellow-eyed son of a bitch to save _his_ life over his own was something Dean couldn't dwell on or he'd end up right back in the dark place he'd been just after the accident. He wouldn't go down that road again if he could help it; it had hurt Sam too damn much.

Joe opened his mouth to ask more; more about the demon, about the semi and how in hell either of them were walking and talking after that, and then snapped it closed instead. For just a moment, there had been a look of such naked pain on Dean's face, he couldn't push and risk hurting the man. He smiled sadly instead. "I'm sorry about your dad."

Dean nodded and rolled the tension out of his shoulders. "Thanks. Ok, Sammy. You wanna try standing?"

"Think so, yeah." Sam took the hand Dean held out and got shakily to his feet. "Whoa," he said softly as the room spun in a dizzying circle before settling. "Ok, I got it. I'm good." He looked up as the room door opened again and a nurse rolled in a wheelchair. "Aw, I don't need that."

"Hospital policy, sweetheart." The nurse smiled. She picked up the clipboard and then patted the empty seat. "Get your butt over here and enjoy the ride."

Steve chuckled and took the wheelchair from her. "We'll get him."

"Now I just need you to sign these forms." The nurse handed the clipboard to Sam once he was seated. Sam quickly signed the release forms and took a long, deep breath once they wheeled him outside and into the sun. It was short-lived as the bright, late afternoon sunlight speared in behind his eyes and made him truly consider throwing up right there. "Ugh."

"Crap. Here. Sorry, Sam." Steve leaned down and slid his sunglasses over Sam's eyes while Dean moved to shield his brother from the glare until they were in place. "Alright now?"

"Might wanna..." Sam swallowed hard and cleared his throat. "... might need one of Dean's air sick bags."

Dean snorted and looked around the parking lot. "What are we riding back in?"

"We brought my van," Joe waved an arm to the left and jogged away to go get it and pull it around.

"I didn't think you'd want me to hotwire that sweet Impala of yours." Steve shrugged. "I'd rather not have you kick my balls up into my throat."

"Good call," Dean said with a laugh.

Sam braced his hands on the arm of the chair and pushed himself up. He sighed, feeling both Dean and Steve's hands on him to brace him. "I'm not an invalid."

"Of course you're not," Dean said easily and grinned at the hard frown Sam gave him. "But seeing as you just spent the morning unconscious in a damn hospital bed and can't remember why, give us a break."

"We were really worried, Sam." Steve slid a hand over the young man's shoulder and held on, taking a little comfort for himself through the contact. "Joe was a wreck. He's pissed at himself for leaving you alone and you getting hurt, so expect him to be your shadow for a few days until he works through that."

"But it wasn't his fault!" Sam said in denial and felt a little rush of guilt. He rubbed carefully around the aching spot on his forehead. "I mean, he wasn't there, right?"

"Still can't remember?" Dean asked and shook his head. "It'll come back to you."

"Or it won't," Sam retorted testily. He took a deep breath as the van pulled up and smiled. "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it." Dean gave Sam a quick, one-armed hug and went to pull the van's side door open for him.

Sam weathered the mother-henning from all three men as well as he could on the drive back to the house with good-tempered smiles and slow rolls of his eyes in deference to his damaged head. By the time he was finally lying in the bed in their apartment, he heaved a long sigh of relief as Steve and Joe left and Dean followed them out to get coffee for his brother.

"Finally," Sam sighed out and carefully got himself off the bed. Contrary to what Dean, Joe, and Steve seemed to think, he was NOT going to lounge around in a bed for a few days. They had a job to do and friends to protect. He skimmed out of the dusty jeans and shirt from the morning and had his sweats and a clean shirt on before Dean came back in the room with a coffee pot in one hand. "Hey, Dean."

"Dude! Get back in bed!" Dean pointed imperiously with his free hand.

Sam snorted and settled on the long couch instead with his laptop. "I'm good here. Cup of coffee would be nice though. Has Bobby called back yet?"

Dean snarled and then finally gave up trying to convince his brother. He set the pot in the little kitchen and poured them both cups. "No. He hasn't. Here."

Sam took the mug, sipping before he set it beside him. "I'm going to find the names and addresses of the victim's families. We need to talk to them. I really think we're missing part of the picture here."

"We?" Dean raised a brow and rolled his own eyes when Sam just smiled at him. "Fine. We. But when you fall down, concussion boy, I'm gonna laugh and take pictures."

"Deal." Sam smirked, pleased to have won that argument so easily. It was hardly the first time one or the both of them had worked a job with a concussion, and the one Sam had wasn't even that severe, considering. He could walk and see straight and knew what day it was. That was clear, suck-it-up-and-get-back-in-the-game territory for a Winchester.

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Sam straightened his tie and pulled out his latest FBI badge. He didn't even have to look over to know that Dean was watching him as he had been since they'd left the hospital. "I'm fine, Dean."

"I didn't say anything!" Dean protested and rapped his knuckles hard on the door of the little yellow house.

"Didn't have to." Sam smirked over at his brother and then smoothed his face as the door cracked open. An older woman, perhaps in her fifties, peered up at them and frowned.

"Yes?" She looked between the two very tall, very handsome young men in dark suits and raised one brow. "Jehovah's Witnesses?"

"Huh?" Sam coughed and shook his head while Dean chuckled beside him. "Uh, no. I'm agent Simmons. This is my partner agent Plant." He held up his badge in unison with Dean before tucking it back in his pocket. "We'd like to ask you a few questions about the death of your husband if you don't mind."

"George?" The woman asked in surprise and then let the door open wider. "Well, damn that was almost ten years ago now. Why's the FBI suddenly interested in him?"

"Thank you, Mrs. Bantle." Sam stepped inside and smiled down at her. "We can't really say much, but some new information has surfaced recently and we're looking into a few old, related case files, including George's."

"Well, ain't that a thing? Come on, then." Mrs. Bantle shrugged and waved them through a door into her parlor. "I don't know what I could possibly tell you after all this time."

Sam nodded and sat beside his brother on a butter yellow love seat. Mrs. Bantle's husband was one of the earlier deaths that Bobby had dug up for them, and if they were right- if Bobby was right- it established a ten-year pattern for the creature they had stumbled upon. "What do you remember about the time your husband died? The weeks leading up to his death or the night it happened."

"Any little thing could help." Dean smiled and then pointed a finger at the little brass table in front of them and its plate, heaped with cookies. "Chocolate chip?"

Mrs. Bantle snorted a soft laugh and nodded. "Help yourself, agent. Don't imagine you fellas get much of a chance for home cooking, now do you?"

Dean quickly snatched three cookies off the plate and bit into one. He studiously ignored the scandalized look on his brother's face and moaned. "Mrs. Bantle, these cookies are awesome!"

"My momma's recipe. She had a gift." She watched the agent inhale two of her cookies and start on the third with a smile and then shook herself back to the conversation. "Right. George. Well, he had a habit of coming home late. Don't ask me what he was doing, because I never asked. That right there, boys, is the secret to a happy marriage- don't ask too many damn questions you don't want to know the answer to. Now, those police detectives, they said my George was makin' time at a strip club in the next town over, and I figure they were right." She chuckled fondly. "George did have a powerful love of the female body. One good set of tits would turn that man all kinds of stupid."

Dean choked on his cookie and spit crumbs into his hand. He looked up and found Mrs. Bantle laughing and his brother with a hand over his face trying to muffle his own. He turned his eyes back to Mrs. Bantle and aimed a finger at her. "You did that on purpose."

Mrs. Bantle blew out a breath and shrugged as she grinned at him. "Couldn't help myself."

Sam smiled and met the woman's eyes. "Is there anything else you can tell us? Maybe something that stood out as strange or different before he died?"

"Oh, hell. I don't know." Mrs. Bantle scratched absently at her chin and thought. "There really wasn't a whole lot going on back then, other than his little stripper fixation." She frowned. "Though I do recall thinking someone must have been givin' my George a hard time somewhere. He was kinda weepy, as I recall. Those last few days, it didn't take much to have him a cryin' wreck. He wasn't really much of a crier normally, so that's the only reason that stood out. I wish I had something more to tell you. I'd like to know the bastard that killed him will get what's comin' to him, even after all these years. He may have had a wandering eye, but at the end of the night, he always came home to me."

Dean frowned and then frowned harder as his brain began making connections. He thought about what they had learned from the grieving husband they had spoken to an hour before, the not-so-grieving widow the hour before that, and then looked over at his brother. His brows flew up and he coughed, clearing his throat. "Thanks, Mrs. B." Dean stood and shook her hand. He copped two more cookies from the plate and waved Sam up as well. "We really appreciate you taking the time to talk to us about this."

"I'm sorry about your husband," Sam said sincerely and shook her hand too. "Thank you so much, and Dean thanks you for the cookies."

"Great cookies!" Dean said with a mouthful and sprayed a few crumbs down his tie as he opened the door.

Sam followed his brother outside and slapped Dean up the back of the head as they descended the stairs of the little house. "Dude, what the hell?" He looked over and snorted. "You're covered in crumbs."

Dean shook his head, brushing the crumbs from his shirt and handed the last cookie to his brother. "Don't let Steve see you slapping me around like that or I'll have to give back my dom card because I can't control my pain-in-the-ass sub. Come on. We've got a lead."

"What lead?" Sam frowned. He took a bite of the cookie and felt a smile spreading across his face. It really _was_ a damn good cookie. "Holy crap. That woman can cook."

"Don't change the subject. Get in the car." Dean jogged around to the driver's side and was already pulling his phone out when Sam climbed in beside him. "Bobby said earlier he couldn't find anything that tied the victims together. I think we just did."

"What?" Sam watched Dean dial Bobby and thought back over what Mrs. Bantle had told them along with the other family members they had spoken to.

"They were all more emotional than normal in the days before their deaths." Dean put the phone to his ear and got the car moving. "Sammy, you're the link. Bobby, I think I figured it out, or part of it anyway."

"Dean, you're not making any sense." Sam scowled over at Dean as he drove.

"All the people we spoke to today said the same thing, or close to it." Dean grabbed the notebook off the seat and checked the location of the last address, deciding there was no reason not to be thorough.

"Well, spit it out, son," Bobby's voice carried through the phone. "What'd you get?"

"They were all over-emotional. Like emo crying and shit." Dean flicked a worried glance to his brother while he drove. "It stood out enough for all of them to mention it. And, Bobby, Sam's been doing it too."

"What? I have not!" Sam argued and then snapped his mouth closed as he considered his behavior for the last day. "I..." There had definitely been moments since they'd arrived in town when he had been unable to control his emotions, when he had collapsed in tears, and he flushed remembering how quickly he had fallen apart in the kitchen that morning. And how, even then, he had been confused at the strength of his reaction. "Holy shit."

"Yeah. Bobby, whatever this thing is, I think it's got its claws in Sam already. The doc at the hospital said all these chemicals in his brain were off too, like not enough of them." Dean's voice was grim with purpose and anger. He wanted to find the damn thing and kill it now.

"Affecting people's emotions prior to killing them, evisceration. Anything else?" Bobby was already up and across his living room, looking at his bookshelves for a volume as an idea came to him.

"Well, George Bantle's wife makes a mean cookie and said he liked watchin' the local girls shake their money makers at the strip club." Dean turned and looked over at Sam.

"Mrs. Lane from earlier." Sam nodded. "She said she was convinced her husband was cheating on her and had been with whoever the other woman was the night he died."

"So sex then." Bobby nodded and found the book he wanted. He pulled it down and took it to his desk. "I think I might know what it is but I wanna be sure. If I'm right, there's nothing you can do about it until the sun's up again anyway."

"We've got one more family member to interview." Dean checked the street signs and couldn't help side-eyeing Sam as they drove for any reaction to this new information.

"Well, it's damn near dark now." Bobby sat down and started flipping through pages. "Take me an hour or two to go through this and be sure. I'll call you when I am." He sighed, looking at the archaic Latin in the entries he wanted. "Maybe more like three or four. Too bad Sam's not here. That boy's a whiz with this dialect."

Dean chuckled. "Hurry up, Bobby."

"What did he say?" Sam asked pensively and watched Dean's face. "What is it?"

"He's not saying yet. Says he wants to be sure." Dean put his phone away and stretched an arm across the seat to pull Sam into his side. "Don't worry about it, ok? Whatever it is, we're gonna gank it and you're gonna be fine."

Sam nodded, still thinking and his eyes widened in surprise. "Joe! Steve said Joe's been all over the chart emotionally since the fire and hasn't been sleeping without help. It's doing something to him too!" He shook and felt around his own mind, trying to see if he could detect any interference and then rolled his eyes at himself. Sam groaned as the action drove a spike of fresh pain into his skull and let his head drop onto Dean's shoulder. "The hell is wrong with me?"

"We'll figure it out." Dean tightened his arm around his brother protectively. "And we're gonna stop it. First, let's go see if Mrs. Leery's husband remembers his wife being moody before she died."

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Dean glanced over at Sam in the passenger seat and smirked. It had taken less than five minutes after interviewing the last grieving family member before Sam's head was tipped against the window and he was snoring softly in exhausted sleep. Dean pulled the Impala into a gas station and parked, wanting to top off his tank; not that she needed it, but he liked it when his baby had a full stomach. He sat back in the seat and tried to push down the fear for his brother. As he'd suspected, Mr. Leery, among other things, had noticed his wife behaving oddly days before her death- random bouts of crying, snapping his head off and crying, making less sense than usual. And most damning of all was his absolute surety that she'd been banging the pool cleaner. Dean shook his head.

"Hey, Sammy," Dean leaned across the seat and gave Sam's shoulder a gentle shake. "Come on, Sam. Wakey, wakey." He watched Sam's eyes roll beneath his lids, his breathing pick up and suddenly Sam was jerking awake and upright in the seat on a gasp.

"Ghost!"

"Whoa, what?" Dean grabbed Sam and turned him toward him. "Dude, you were dreaming! Hey! Sam, come on!"

Sam turned wild eyes to Dean and grabbed hold of his brother. "No. There's a ghost in the house! That's what threw me into that wall! Oh, my God. We left them there! Steve and Joe!"

"Sammy, are you sure?" Dean scowled but the look on his brother's face was all sincerity. "That was a pretty hard knock to the head. There's been no sign of a ghost anywhere in there."

"Dammit, Dean! Yes, I'm sure. I know a ghost when I feel one. Come on! We have to get back there!" Sam gave Dean a push toward the wheel. "I felt it in the room. I was leaving to find you and them, and then something, the door I think, slammed into my back, and..."

"Concussion. Dammit." Dean put the Impala in gear and tore out of the gas station and back toward the house. "Try calling them."

Sam dug out his phone and pressed the speed dial for Joe. When there was no answer, he quickly tried Steve. "Dean, they're not answering and the sun's down."

"I know," Dean said grimly and pressed harder on the gas. Ghosts were always more active once the sun went down; something about the darkness seemed to give them more energy. "Why now? Why wouldn't there have been any signs before now?"

Sam shook his head and then frowned. "Has to be something about the renovations we're doing; knocking down walls, tearing up carpets and moving the furniture, trashing some of it. I think we pissed it off. Whoever it is, or was, they must not have been active until we started tearing up their house."

"Well, shit. A mystery monster AND a pissed off ghost. Wonderful." Dean groaned and made the last turn toward the house. The street lights were on, illuminating the lonely street leading to the big house, and Dean screeched to a stop at the gate. He grabbed the remote Steve had given him and hit the button. The gate rattled but refused to slide apart. "Son of a bitch!"

"Oh, no." Sam climbed out of the car and had to steady himself on the door for a moment as his battered head swam. "Shit."

"Sammy?" Dean was out and around the car like a shot. "Ok, look. I'm gonna climb the fence and go find them. You stay..."

"No way," Sam cut him off fiercely. "No way am I staying out here while you go in there after them into who knows what. Get the salt guns. I'm coming." He stared at Dean until his brother groaned and threw his hands up with a muttered 'fine' as he stalked back to the trunk. Sam went to the gate itself and checked it. The latch mechanism had lifted, as it was supposed to, but no matter how hard he pushed or pulled, neither side would move. "Dammit."

"Let's go." Dean slid one of the guns through the gate and handed the other to Sam. "Watch my back while I go over."

"Right." Sam checked to make sure the gun was loaded and watched Dean jump, catch the top of the tall gate and swing a leg over. His eyes drifted to the house. Most of the lights were on in every window, and that in itself was unusual since the majority of the building was empty. It was eerily quiet and made his nerves twitch. He brought his focus back when Dean landed on the other side and passed his gun through. "My turn."

"Just... take it slow." Dean watched Sam jump and catch the top of the gate as he had. He kept an eye on Sam's face and saw the strain as he reached the top and rolled to go over. He wasn't surprised when Sam landed and went to his knees on a low groan. "Jesus, Sammy. You should not be doing this."

Sam nodded and let Dean help him to his feet. He took his gun from his brother and squared his shoulders. "I need to do this."

"I know. Let's move. You good?" Dean got a not very encouraging nod from Sam and resigned himself to making sure the stubborn idiot didn't end up face down on the lawn. He moved up the drive and scanned the exterior of the big house for any sign of what was going on inside, but there was nothing and it only served to make him more nervous. Dean took his EMF meter out of his pocket and switched it on as they jogged near the front door of the house.

"Anything?" Sam asked and looked over his brother's shoulder.

Dean shook his head. "Not yet." He tucked the meter into his pocket and left it on so he would hear it whine if a ghost did come near them. "Did you see this thing at all?"

"I don't think so." Sam climbed the steps of the front porch and went to the door ahead of Dean. "I don't remember actually seeing anything. Just the chill and then getting a door slammed into my back."

"We should have checked out the damn house when we saw it," Dean grumbled and grabbed the door handle. "Knew this damn place was old, and what are the odds it ain't haunted?" He shook his head at his own lapse and turned the knob. He was surprised when the door swung open. He'd been expecting the house to be locked up tight by the ghost. "Ok, that's either really good or really bad."

Sam shoved the door all the way open and strode inside. "Steve! Joe!"

"Dammit, Sammy! Hold on a damn second." Dean came in behind him and grabbed his brother's arm before he could run off half-cocked. "Let's be smart about this. Where would they be?"

Sam nodded and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Maybe their rooms, or where you were knocking down walls. Could be upstairs too."

"Ok. Let's start down here." Dean led the way with his shotgun held in front of him and one ear tuned to the still more or less silent meter in his pocket. Oh, it was whining softly each time he passed a light or an outlet, as it should, but had yet to scream with the presence of a spirit.

"It's that way." Sam pointed to the right. "Their rooms are on the other side of the house from us."

Dean smirked. "Probably so they don't hear us and we don't hear them if we decide to get our freak on in private."

Sam smiled tightly at that and followed along as they moved through the house. They stopped in the big kitchen, but it was empty; of people anyway. There was a pot simmering on the stove, the smell of spaghetti sauce and garlic heavy in the air, and something baking in the oven that made his mouth water. "We're in time for dinner."

"Let's hope we get to eat it," Dean muttered and moved off again. He followed a long hall and turned to his right when Sam tapped his shoulder.

"That's them." Sam nodded toward a set of double doors at the end of the hall and took up a position just behind Dean. He tensed when the meter in Dean's pocket began to whine steadily. "Dean."

"Yeah, I hear it." Dean looked down and saw salt particles scattered lightly just under the edge of the door. He rolled his head, cracking the tension out of his neck, and reached up to knock harshly on the door. "Hey! You guys in there?"

Sam waited anxiously and brought his salt gun along with Dean's when there was a series of thumps from behind the door. A moment later, it opened and he watched Steve jerk backward in surprise at being confronted with two shotguns pointed at him.

"Holy shit!" Steve threw his hands up in the air and watched wide-eyed as the brothers lowered their guns.

"Are you ok?" Dean demanded and stepped carefully over the line of salt at the door. "Where's Joe?"

"Here! He's here." Steve shrugged. "What's with the firepower?"

"Sam remembered what took him out." Dean looked around the front room of the little apartment so like their own and didn't see anything amiss.

"There's a ghost." Sam raised a hand when Steve's eyes blew wide. "I know how that sounds, but I swear, there's a ghost in this house somewhere. We tried to call but neither of you answered your phones, and the gate wouldn't open and we were worried and..."

"Whoa. Hey, Sam." Dean turned worriedly and slid his free hand over his brother's neck. "Calm down, dude. Take a breath. They're good. They're safe." He watched Sam fight for control and smiled when his brother took several long, deep breaths. "There you go."

"This sucks," Sam said angrily and rubbed a hand over his face. "We need to kill that thing so I can stop falling apart every time the fucking wind blows wrong."

Dean chuckled and looked back to Steve. "We've also got some news on your creature. I think Joe will want to hear this too."

"So the thing outside, that's not...I mean..." Steve was having trouble making sense of any of the madness happening around them.

Dean gave him a sad smile. "Sorry, dude. You guys get the double-or-nothing supernatural jackpot. Your very own ghost/monster mashup."

"I... ok." Steve ran his hands through his hair and shook his head. "I'm sure there's a good reason you brought a shotgun to a ghost fight?" He pointed at one of them and waved his other hand toward a closed door. "Joe's getting dressed. We were... playing."

Dean snickered and grinned. "Sorry. Can't help it."

"Yes. He is a giant child." Sam rolled his eyes, swayed suddenly and found himself held up by his brother on one side and Steve on the other and wondered when he was going to remember to stop doing that until his head was better. "Crap."

"Sam, you should sit down." Steve nodded and he and Dean steered the younger man toward a wide, plush chair. "Joe! Put your pants on and get out here!" He looked over at Dean with a chuckle. "I like making him cuss at me."

Sam sat and put his head in his hands when Dean pried the shotgun from his grip. "Have I mentioned how much I hate concussions?"

"Once or twice." Dean rubbed a hand on the back of Sam's shoulder comfortingly.

"Joe!" Steve called again. He frowned and stood. "Hang on. I'll go get him."

Dean sat on the arm of the chair next to his brother. "How's your head?"

"Feels like a bulldozer tap-danced on it." Sam groaned and lifted his aching head back up. "I'm alright."

"You need to rest." Dean opened his mouth to say more and jerked to his feet as the meter in his pocket screamed to life. Sam lunged up beside him and snatched his salt gun from the coffee table. "The room's salted! I looked!"

"DEAN!" Steve's bellow carried out of the bedroom and brought both boys at a run. He pointed to the open window and then ran to it. "It was open when I came in, and Joe... he's not here! Where is he? Joe!"

"Oh, shit." Dean looked at the window and at the salt scattered across the carpet under it. The salt line had been broken. "Alright. I'm gonna go out and find Joe. Sam, stay here. Re-pour that damn line and keep Steve in one piece."

"Dean, no." Sam shook his head but Dean only glared at him.

"You know I'm right." Dean took Steve's arm and pulled him back from the open window. "You keep an eye on Sam. His head's a lot more tender than he's letting on. And don't leave this apartment until we come back."

"If you're going after Joe, so am I." Steve moved toward the window again only to be yanked back and pushed toward Sam.

"No, you're not, dammit! I need you here with him and not out there stumbling around." Dean smiled to try and soften his words. "Look. We know what we're doing. You don't." He went to the window, sat down and swung his legs out. "Best thing you can do for Joe right now is stay here and stay safe. I'll bring him back."

"You better." Steve relented grudgingly and moved to stand beside Sam.

"Dean, be careful. That creature is still out there too." Sam watched his brother climb out the window with a heavy heart and forced himself to turn away as Dean vanished into the darkness. "Where's the salt?"

"Kitchen." Steve clasped his hands around his head for a moment and blew out a breath. "Ok. Alright. He'll be fine. Dean will find him."

"Yeah, he will." Sam assured him. "He won't come back without Joe." In his mind, he couldn't help but add 'one way or another,' but he didn't want to worry Steve more with the intimation that Joe could already be dead. Sam was having enough trouble on his own dealing with that realization. He couldn't imagine Joe being dead or how Steve would cope in the aftermath of that. It hurt too damn much.

Sam turned to follow Steve and spun back to the window as a voice cried out in the night beyond. "No!" Sam barely managed to grab a hold of Steve before the man could dive through the window.

"That was Joe!" Steve struggled against Sam's grip, desperate to reach his partner. "Let me go! Sam, please!"

"Steve, stop!" Sam dropped his shotgun and wrapped both arms around the distraught man, using his height and muscle mass to hold him back. "Wait for Dean!" He grunted when one of Steve's elbows banged into his stomach. "Please."

Steve threw himself against Sam's hold, needing so badly to reach Joe, and yelped in surprise when they both went over backwards. He thumped hard onto Sam's body beneath him and rolled to the side as Sam's arms dropped away. "Sam? Oh, shit, Sam. I'm... I'm sorry." Steve scrambled to lift the man's head and shoulders into his lap and brushed Sam's dark hair from his face. "Are you ok?"

Sam nodded, coughed and swallowed. The impact with the floor had sent his head spinning dangerously. "Don't... don't go out there."

"I won't. I promise. I'm sorry." Steve's head jerked around at the sound of a shotgun firing outside, but he kept his promise. He stayed on the floor holding Sam, while the younger Winchester found his bearings again. "Are you alright?"

Sam nodded carefully. "Uh... think so." He put a hand to his head and then stilled. "Steve. The window." he watched his breath puff out in front of his face and Steve's as well and a sinking feeling ran through him. "Oh, no."

"Sam, what..." Steve's voice broke off in a surprised shout as he was yanked away from Sam by invisible hands. "SAM!"

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_To Be Continued..._


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: I love you all for putting up with my love of cliffhangers. *huggles* Also, being a sub myself, I do kind of enjoy the threats of bodily harm. Heh heh heh I've been naughty. I should probably be spanked. :P 
> 
> Graphic depictions within. Beta'd by the always awesome JaniceC678
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own 'em but if I did, they'd never get dressed.

 

_**~Reviews are love~** _

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_Sam turned to follow Steve and spun back to the window as a voice cried out in the night beyond. "No!" Sam barely managed to grab a_ _hold_ _of Steve before the man could dive through the window._

_"That was Joe!" Steve struggled against Sam's grip, desperate to reach his partner. "Let me go! Sam, please!"_

_"Steve, stop!" Sam dropped his shotgun and wrapped both arms around the distraught man, using his height and muscle mass to hold him back. "Wait for Dean!" He grunted when one of Steve's elbows banged into his stomach. "Please."_

_Steve threw himself against Sam's hold, needing so badly to reach Joe, and yelped in surprise when they both went over backwards. He thumped hard_ _onto_ _Sam's body beneath him and rolled to the side as Sam's arms dropped away. "Sam? Oh, shit, Sam. I'm... I'm sorry." Steve scrambled to lift the man's head and shoulders into his lap and brushed Sam's dark hair from his face. "Are you ok?"_

_Sam nodded, coughed and swallowed. The impact with the floor had sent his head spinning dangerously. "Don't... don't go out there."_

_"I won't. I promise. I'm sorry." Steve's head jerked around at the sound of a shotgun firing outside, but he kept his promise. He stayed on the floor holding Sam, while the younger Winchester found his bearings again. "Are you alright?"_

_Sam nodded carefully. "Uh... think so." He put a hand to his head and then stilled. "Steve. The window." he watched his breath puff out in front of his face and Steve's as well and a sinking feeling ran through him. "Oh, no."_

_"Sam, what..." Steve's voice broke off in a surprised shout as he was yanked away from Sam by invisible hands. "SAM!"_

**Chapter 4**

Dean walked cautiously away from the house. He watched the thick carpet of grass around him and saw the marks of something's passing. There were drag marks and, as he bent for a closer look, the distinctive shape of the footprints of the creature that seemed to be stalking them. "Oh, man," he said sadly and then glared out into the night. "Dammit, Joe. Don't you dare be dead." He rose to his feet, settled his shotgun in his grip and followed the drag marks through the grass toward a copse of trees at the back corner of the property. He wanted to call out for Joe, to hear some response, but he couldn't risk alerting the creature, whatever the hell it was, to his presence before he found it.

Dean slowed at the trees and listened. For a moment, there was nothing; then he heard something thump into the ground, the trees shake, and then a loud grunt of pain that could only be Joe. He raised his gun and pushed through the screen of branches carefully. They parted and, in the gloom of the corner of the protecting wall, he found Joe. The man lay on his back, bare-chested, spread-eagle, motionless, and alone.

"Dammit," Dean hissed. He looked around the edge of their little hiding place but couldn't see any sign of the creature. He shook his head, not liking it one bit but seeing no other choice. Dean eased across the ten feet to Joe and knelt beside him. "Joe? You alright?"

Joe blinked and opened his eyes. He looked up and saw a dark shadow looming over him. In his dazed state, he panicked and threw his arms up to defend himself. "No!"

"Hey. Hey!" Dean grabbed hold of one of Joe's hands. "Joe, it's me! It's Dean!" He held on until Joe slowly calmed. "You with me?"

Joe tried to slow his panicked breathing and focused on the fact that it was somehow Dean leaning over him. "Dean?"

"Yeah." Dean loosened his grip on Joe's hand to something more comforting. "Are you hurt? Did you see where it went?"

Joe shook his head slowly. His head felt like it was filled with cotton balls. He closed his eyes. "It... the window. I opened the w-window. It was hot. I didn't think... oh, God. It just grabbed me!" He opened his eyes and trembled with fear. "It... it pulled me through the window!"

"Shh. Keep your voice down," Dean warned but Joe was too upset to listen.

"It had a hand, or a... a paw, something on my chest, and it was like I c-couldn't breathe." Joe gasped with the memory and clasped both hands around Dean's arm, needing the contact.

"Shit," Dean cursed. He couldn't free his left arm from Joe's grasp, so he grudgingly set the shotgun down and felt around the man's chest with his right. He grimaced when he felt warm, wet blood on Joe's bare skin. "I gotta get you outta here, ok? Can you move?" Joe gave him a small nod. "Alright. We're gonna go back to the house for Steve and Sam and get the hell out of Dodge for the night. It's gonna be ok. You just gotta keep it together a little longer." He pried Joe's fingers from his arm and grabbed his shotgun. "Here we go."

"All... alright." Joe felt tears running down his cheeks but didn't have composure to even care about trying to stop them. He took the hand Dean held down to him and tried to brace himself for the movement. Joe gritted his teeth, holding a hand over the burning pain he could now feel across his chest, and looked up. The breath stuttered to a stop in his lungs. Glowing orange eyes looked out at him from the trees a few feet away, behind Dean's back. He opened his mouth and no sound came out. Joe swallowed hard and took a deep breath. "Dean! Behind you!"

Dean yanked Joe to his feet and spun, leading with his shotgun. Still, he wasn't quite fast enough. The creature leaped from the cover of the trees and slammed into them both. Joe's voice filled the little clearing in a pain-filled shout. Dean rolled to his knees and brought his gun up. "Hey, ugly!" he yelled and fired. The rock salt hit the creature. It gave a deep, angry hiss and bounded back into the trees and out of sight.

"Son of a bitch," Dean groaned and got to his feet. He went to Joe and pulled him up again. "Come on. Move!" He grunted in pain, feeling a burning along his left hip and pushed it away. There was no time for him to be wounded too. "Joe, come on." He slipped Joe's arm over his shoulders and shivered as his brown hair, longer even than Sam's, slipped across his neck. Dean shook himself mentally at the sensation. How the hell was he finding ANYTHING about this situation even vaguely arousing? He forced his attention back to the immediate problem of getting them both out of there in one piece. He gently urged Joe forward. "Let's move, buddy. I've got you."

They moved in a stagger to the trees, and Dean struggled to keep the shotgun up and Joe tight against his side. "You can do this. Just keep walking." They came out of the screen of trees, ducking under the overhanging boughs, and Joe startled against him as Steve's voice carried clearly through the night air. He was screaming for Sam.

"No," Dean breathed in denial. "We've got to move!"

"Steve." Joe took some of his own weight and moved along beside Dean as quickly as he could. "It couldn't have... have gotten to them already. Right?"

Dean nodded but didn't say anything. He knew the creature wasn't their only problem. "Few more yards." He craned his neck to look behind them, but there was no sign of the creature. He looked back to the house and scowled, seeing the curtain billowing out of the window he had left through. That Sam had never gotten the window closed meant he'd probably not managed to get the salt line re-poured. "Dammit."

"What?" Joe asked breathlessly. Fear was skittering up and down his spine. He couldn't shake the feeling that the thing was watching them; was waiting to snatch him away again. It made it hard to breathe.

"Ok, I don't want you to freak out." Dean slowed as they neared the side of the house and the EMF meter in his pocket started to whine, growing in volume the closer they came. "Sam didn't fall. There's a ghost in your house and it knocked him out."

"A... a ghost?" Joe asked in disbelief. "Are you serious?"

Dean nodded. "It locked the gate on us when we got here and was blocking your cell phones when we tried to call you." He eased Joe up to the wall beside the window. "I'm thinkin' it's all the renovating we've been doing that honked him off. Knocking down walls, moving shit around..."

"Tearing up carpets? They get pissed about that?" Joe rubbed a hand over his face and tried to process what he was hearing. Coming on top of just being grabbed by some creature out of a horror story, it was beyond overwhelming.

"Oh, yeah. They can." Dean quickly reloaded his shotgun and jacked a fresh round into the chamber. "We could go around to the back deck to get in. It'd be easier on you, but I'm afraid if we do that, the ghost'll lock the door down and we'll just have to come back here." He scowled. "And I can't leave you out here unprotected. You think you can get back in that window if I help?"

"To get to Steve, I can climb the damn house." Joe nodded firmly. "Help me up there."

Dean smiled and clasped a hand to Joe's shoulder for a moment in support. "Ok." He leaned around and looked in the window, hoping to see his brother and Steve, but the room was empty. His heart sank. "Ok, come on." Dean jumped and easily climbed in the window. His left hip protested the movement, and he staggered as he righted himself. He reached back out the window and Joe was there to clasp his arm. "Kick off and I'll pull."

Joe nodded. He took a deep breath and jumped, trusting Dean to keep a hold of him. He yelped when his wounded chest scraped across the window sill, and he was panting by the time Dean had him in the room and was holding him up against his chest.

"Easy. Just breathe. You're alright," Dean soothed even as he took in the room. Something bad had definitely happened since he'd left. One of the chairs was overturned, a bookshelf had been toppled, and the door was standing open, knocked half off the hinges with the once-whole salt line that looked as though it had been scattered by a stiff wind.

"What... what is that?" Joe asked wearily. He straightened against Dean and reached for his left pocket and the electronic whine coming from it.

"EMF meter." Dean moved further into the room and settled Joe on the arm of the couch, leaning there. "Measures electromagnetic activity." He snorted softly. "Which means it goes off for outlets and light bulbs too, but it doesn't sing like this unless there's something dead in the area." He tilted his head and groaned as he bent down and scooped Sam's shotgun from the floor. "Dammit, Sam."

"Where are they?" Joe asked and wrapped his arms around himself. He looked down at his chest and gasped, seeing the shallow gouges across his chest, four of them like something had clawed him.

"I don't know." Dean shook his head and then looked at Joe. "Shit, we gotta do something about those."

"But Steve and Sam..."

"You think Steve won't kick my ass if I let you run around bleeding all over the place?" He managed a smile and went looking for the bathroom. "I know what I'd do to you guys if you let Sam pull a walking wounded routine."

Joe couldn't help but chuckle at that and it made him feel slightly better. He shuddered and slid down the arm until he was sitting on the couch. He leaned back and tried to take shallow breaths to move his wounded chest as little as possible, letting his head fall back on the couch. "Fuck."

"Maybe later," Dean quipped as he returned. He kicked the coffee table closer and sat down in between Joe's knees with the first aid kit he'd found. It was surprisingly well-stocked. "Have you patched up in a minute and then we can go find our boys, alright?" Joe gave him a nod. "Alright. This ain't gonna be pleasant. I need to disinfect these before I cover them. It's gonna sting like a bitch."

Joe groaned. "I can take it." He cracked an eye and smirked as Dean leaned toward him with a gauze pad soaked in alcohol. "Steve's got this paddle..." he let the sentence trail off as he chuckled, but it quickly turned into a pained gasp with the first touch of the gauze. "Crap! That's not nearly as much fun without the foreplay," he managed when he got his breath back.

"Easy. Sorry." It was killing Dean to be sitting there instead of searching that whole damn mansion to find his brother, but he couldn't just leave Joe bleeding. "Ask me something," Dean said and flicked a glance up to Joe's face.

"Wha-what?" Joe lifted his head and met Dean's gaze.

Dean smiled. "Ask me anything. Take your mind off it while I do this."

Joe nodded and slumped back, trying not to twitch while the gauze caused him well-meaning pain. "Uh, can I ask..."

"Anything," Dean said again and bent to get the deepest of the four marks at the base of Joe's sternum. He knew there was no way that one wasn't screaming pain every time the man breathed and he marveled that Joe was taking it so well.

"Ok, Um..." Joe swallowed. "You and Sam. How did that, did you guys... I mean, I swear it doesn't bother me. I'm just... morbidly curious I guess."

Dean's hands stilled in surprise for just a moment and then he bent back to his task. "Not what I expected, but ok. I figured you'd wanna know about ghosts or something."

Joe closed his eyes and mentally kicked himself. "I'm sorry. Forget it. I shouldn't have..."

"I don't mind. There was this amulet." Dean blew out a breath and grabbed a fresh piece of gauze. "It was a hypnotist's amulet, and I accidentally whammied Sam with it. It's kind of a long story, but we both sorta had to fess up after that." He smirked. "Turns out we'd been burnin' a torch for each other since our teens and both thought we were sick twists for it and hid it all those years."

"How long... crap, ow. How long have you two been, you know, together? Shit." Joe curled up at a particularly painful sting and grasped the hand Dean gave him to hold on to gratefully until it passed. He fell back again and wheezed in a breath. "Sorry."

"Quit apologizing and a couple of years I guess." Dean shrugged and started taping bandages in place across Joe's chest. "It was a little terrifying at first, you know? I mean he's my little brother. I've been takin' care of his ass since he was born, but..." He frowned, really thinking about it as he worked. "The way we grew up? We didn't have anything but each other; couldn't trust anyone but each other. I don't think we ever stood a chance of not fallin' for each other."

"And you wouldn't... wouldn't have it any other way," Joe finished with a smile and opened his eyes again to look at Dean. "You guys love each other so damn much it almost hurts watching you sometimes. I mean, that's like, epic love story."

Dean snorted and taped the last bandage in place. "More like Harlequin romance novel of the week some days. Just bad porn on the others. Come on. Here." He grabbed a shirt he'd found in the bathroom and handed it to Joe.

"Thanks. It seems like you've done this before."

"Too damn much," Dean sighed.

Joe pulled the shirt on with a pang in his heart. It was Steve's. He buttoned it and stood with Dean's help. "What do we do?"

"Here." Dean picked up Sam's shotgun and handed it to Joe. "Point and shoot if you see something impossible."

Joe was surprised into a laugh and settled the sawed-off shotgun in his grip. "Ok. Lucky for you, my dad was a gun enthusiast."

Dean picked up his own gun and headed for the door. He let a bit of a command tone slip into his voice, knowing Joe would respond to it automatically. "You stay next to me. I don't want you running off. If this bastard splits us up, we're in trouble, so you stick by me." He looked over at Joe and caught his eyes. "You're my backup here."

Joe sobered with that and nodded. "Not leaving you."

"Let's go find them." Dean stepped out into the hall and just about jumped out of his skin when his phone went off over the constant whine of the meter. "Shit." He fumbled it out of his pocket and answered it. "Bobby, now is not a good time."

"Dean? What's going on?" Bobby asked worriedly, hearing the tone in Dean's voice.

"We've got a spook in the house and its got Sam and a friend of ours." Dean met Joe's eyes and sighed. "Also, our creature had another go at us."

"Balls. How come you boys can never just keep things simple? Alright; well, there's nothing you can do about the creature right now anyway." Bobby tapped the book in front of him and sat back with the phone. "It's pretty much unkillable except in daylight."

"Awesome," Dean rolled his eyes and started down the hall toward the center of the house.

"A ghost? Really?" Bobby asked and tried not to think about what might have already happened to Sam; or what would happen if Dean lost his brother. He knew he'd be burying the last of the Winchesters in no time flat and he went cold with fear. "What can I do?"

Dean stopped and thought. "You up for more research?" He rattled off the address of the mansion. "It was bought recently, but this place is big and old. Gotta be something somewhere on it."

"If there is, I'll find it." Bobby was already scribbling the address down while his laptop booted. "You go find our boy."

"I will," Dean said firmly, with no room for doubt and put his phone away. "Don't you die on me, Sammy," he whispered to himself and started further into the house, looking for any sign of their passing. "If the meter in my pocket screams or the temperature drops, that means Casper's about to be on us. So you... son of a bitch!" Dean shouted as the lights went off and they were plunged into darkness.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-** _

Pain was the first thing Sam was aware of. It throbbed all along his body in every limb. Then came the cold. He was shivering and lying on something hard. He groaned softly and lifted his arms. They ached and he remembered a dizzying swirl of motion as he'd been pulled down a flight of stairs before everything had gone black. He heard the sound of breathing somewhere close to him. Sam forced his eyes open in the spite of how badly he wanted to pass back out.

"Steve?" Sam called as loud as he dared. Still, the sound of his own voice shot pain through his head. "Fuck, that hurts. Steve?"

A soft moan answered him, and Sam forced his protesting body to roll to his side. It was a mistake. He scrambled to get his arms underneath him and threw up violently. It seemed to on forever but passed at last and left him gasping for breath. Sam rocked slowly back onto his knees and blinked to clear his vision. It was dark, but not pitch black. The dim glow of an emergency light gave him just enough illumination to see that he was in the cellar of the big house. There were unfinished concrete walls, stacks of boxes labeled 'bar', and rolls of carpeting all waiting for the club to be built upstairs.

His eyes adjusted and roamed around the long room he was in. He sucked in a breath when he saw a body against the wall across from him. He could just make out blonde hair in the meager light. "Steve." Sam crawled slowly over to the man and put a shaking hand on his chest. "Steve, please be alright." Sam smiled in relief as Steve moaned and rolled his head toward the sound of Sam's voice. "That's it. Wake up." He gently ran his hand over Steve's chest and then his shoulders and arms looking for broken ribs and bones, amazed when he didn't find any.

"God," Steve said in a hoarse whisper as he swam back to wakefulness. He felt caring hands running over his body. In the dim light, he could just make out Sam leaning over him. "Sam. Wha'... what happened?"

"The ghost." Sam sat back a little. He rested his head in one hand, balancing himself with the other on Steve's chest. "We're in the basement."

Steve's eyes opened wide in shock. "How the hell did we get down here?"

"The ghost dragged us." Sam smiled ruefully. "Like two sacks of potatoes down the stairs."

"Jesus." Steve cautiously got his elbows under him, trying to sit up, and he caught Sam's hand as it slid down his chest. "Sam, are you alright?"

"Been better," Sam admitted with a small laugh, then added "Been worse, too, so there's that."

"Oh, man. Your head." Steve sat up all the way and wrapped an arm around Sam. He smelled the faint odor of vomiting and knew without having to ask that Sam had thrown up getting to him. "Come here. I've got you."

"I'm ok," Sam protested, but he allowed himself a moment of weakness and rested his aching head on Steve's shoulder.

"Are we safe?" Steve asked softly, warily, and felt the answering shake of Sam's head against him.

"Playing with us." Sam lifted his head carefully. "We have to get back upstairs. Dean."

"Ok, Sam. Ok." Steve pulled his legs in and groaned softly at the pain all over his body. "Feel like I was dumped in a cement mixer."

"Fairly accurate," Sam chuckled. He braced a hand on the floor to stand and ended up tilting into Steve instead.

"Hey. Hey." Steve caught Sam against him again. He could feel Sam shaking with cold and frowned worriedly. "We really need to get you somewhere warm. Let me help."

Sam nodded. He focused on not throwing up again as Steve slowly and painfully got them both on their feet. Once there, Steve was the only thing that kept Sam from sliding back to the floor in a heap.

"You're alright." Steve grunted under the weight of keeping Sam standing and braced them both against the wall.

"Sorry." Sam took a deep breath and planted his more feet securely beneath him. "I've got it." He couldn't afford to give in to his injuries, not while he had Steve to protect. "We need to move. If you see any..." Sam had to stop and swallow hard as his throat tried to crawl back up his throat. "... anything made of iron, grab it. It can hurt spirits. Temp... temporarily banish them, like the salt."

"Alright. Lean on me, Sam. Come on." Steve didn't take no for an answer and pulled the taller man's arm across his shoulders, holding firmly onto Sam's right wrist.

"Emergency lights." Sam wrapped his free hand around his aching skull and wished he still had his shotgun. "Ghost must have, uh, knocked out the power. Or he just likes screwing with it." Sam startled as dots connected in his head. "That's why the motion lights didn't come on." He looked over at Steve. "When we first went out looking for the creature. The lights didn't come on right away. The spirit must have been keeping them off."

"I just can't wrap my head around ghosts being real." Steve sighed and adjusted his grip on Sam to steady him. "I mean, you see this kind of shit on TV, not in real life. What about psychics? They're still full of shit, right?"

Sam coughed. "Um, well, some of them, yeah. But some are real too." He didn't mention his visions to Steve. He didn't even want to begin to explain about all of that, or worse, finally give the man a reason to look at him like the freak he believed he was.

"Wow." Steve considered making a bad joke about lottery numbers, but something in Sam's voice, some odd undertone he couldn't place, told him the joke probably wouldn't be appreciated. "Ok, stairs are this way, I think. Pretty sure where we are."

"Glad one of us is," Sam said on a groan as the world did a lazy spin around him.

"Shit, Sam. Hang on." Steve stopped and wrapped both arms around Sam's torso, just barely keeping the larger man on his feet. "Sam? Can you talk to me?" The fear he'd been keeping at bay came back full force when Sam's head dropped to his shoulder and then Sam's knees went out and took them both to the floor. "Sam, don't. Stay with me, ok?" He palmed the side of Sam's face to get a look at him.

Sam scrunched his eyes tightly shut while a fresh wave of pain trampled through his skull. It ended and Sam opened his sluggish eyes to realize he was kneeling on the floor with Steve holding him. "Crap."

"Yeah," Steve said with a relieved smile. He watched Sam blink repeatedly and felt him slowly steadying and smoothed a thumb over his cheek when Sam's eyes met his again. "Ready to move again?"

"Sorry." Sam turned, leaving his arm over Steve's shoulders. "One too many knocks to the head today."

Steve nodded. He swallowed back his own fear and turned them to the right. "I think... yeah." He smiled when the stairs appeared, bathed in the glow of an emergency light. "Those go right up into the kitchen. We're gonna put the wine cellar down here."

"Good. That's good." Sam put a hand out to the wall to help ground him against the swaying he knew was only in his head. "Kitchen means salt. We'll get that and then we can..."

"What?" Steve looked on as his breath and Sam's misted out before them. "Oh, God. It's... it's coming back, isn't it?"

Sam nodded. He pushed away from Steve and leaned against the wall instead. "Get up the stairs. Get to the kitchen and find all the salt you can. Pour a ring around yourself. It'll keep you safe until Dean finds you."

"You're coming with me." Steve reached out to take Sam's arm, but he was shaken off.

"No. I'll slow you down." Sam looked up the flight of stairs, and to him right then it looked like Mount Everest. "I'm not gonna make it up those fast. You will. When it comes to this crap, you do what I say," Sam ordered the man. He managed a small smile. "Later, when we get out of this mess, you can remind me what happens to bossy subs." He was rewarded with a hint of a very Dean-like smirk, and he took Steve's shoulder to give him a shove toward the stairs. "You ring yourself in salt and then you start yelling for Dean. He has to know where we are. Go, Steve. Go!"

Steve felt his heart in his throat as he backed away from Sam. "Sam."

"I'll be fine," Sam assured him, but he didn't really believe it. "Run!" He watched Steve turn and run for the stairs as the air around him chilled even further. His body shuddered forcefully with the cold. "Come on," Sam muttered as Steve jogged quickly up the stairs. "You come after me. Here I am." He turned to put his back to the wall and wrapped an arm across his sore ribs while ice crystals formed on his lashes, obscuring his vision, and a glowing white shape began to form in front of him. "Wounded prey, asshole." Sam swiped an arm through the forming ghost, turned, and ran deeper into the cellar, leading it safely away from Steve.

**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-**

Dean almost wished for blood. At least that would have left a trail for them to follow. As it was, he was going to room to room out of necessity, checking each because calling for his brother and Steve had earned them nothing, so either they were too far in the house to hear him, or, more worrying, they weren't in any condition to answer back.

"Dammit. Where the hell are they?" Dean snarled and kicked another door open onto an empty room, shining his flashlight inside and turning away angrily.

"It's a big house." Joe was having trouble containing his fear, both for himself and for Steve and Sam. It was Dean who was keeping him calm. Rather than panic, the elder Winchester was methodically and quickly searching every room as they moved and still casting a glance to Joe every so often to make sure he was still on his feet.

"They couldn't have gone far." Dean stalked into the entry hall of the house and played his light around the room. His eyes narrowed when he spotted an overturned planter on the far side, near the door leading back to the kitchens. "There. That wasn't knocked over when we came in. Sam!"

"Steve!" Joe shouted and groaned, hunching over his chest. "Damn."

"Let me do the yelling," Dean placed a hand briefly on the man's shoulder and gave a lock of his hair a small tug until Joe smiled weakly. "We're gonna find them." He waited for Joe to give him a nod and started off toward the kitchens. He had a feeling they were getting close. Suddenly, he heard a door bang loudly somewhere ahead of them and then Steve's voice was echoing through the hall.

"Dean!"

"That's Steve!" Joe jumped ahead a step and then stopped himself, remembering what Dean had told him, not to go running off and leave him without any backup."

"Come on." Dean smiled and appreciated the fact that Joe had managed to catch himself and not overreact. Together, they ran across the wide entry and into a short hall. They burst into the kitchen and found Steve tearing open cabinets in the moonlight that streamed through the big window. "Steve!" Dean ran and grabbed the man and had to dance out of the way when Joe barreled past him and threw himself at his partner.

"Oh my, God. Joe." Steve encircled Joe in a hard hug, pressing him to his chest and buried his face in the man's neck. "You're ok. Thank, God. I thought..."

"I'm ok," Joe cried into Steve's shirt and fisted two handfuls of the fabric, not even caring about the pain that burned through his chest with the embrace. "Dean saved me."

"Steve. Where's Sam?" Dean demanded. A quick look around the kitchen had made it clear Steve was alone.

"Cellar." Steve pulled back from Joe finally and met Dean's anguished eyes. "He's in the cellar. He... he took another knock to the head. He couldn't make it up the stairs, and the... the ghost was coming back." He looked down at Joe and back to Dean and hated himself a little. "He made me leave him. He told me to find salt and protect myself and call for you so you'd know where we were."

"You did the right thing." Dean said, though it cost him. The thought that his little brother was now alone beneath the house with a violent ghost terrified him and made him want to scream, but he knew Sam was right to have sent Steve ahead. "You do what Sam said. The two of you stay here and stay safe until I come back."

"Dean, no! I can't!" Steve shook his head vehemently. "I can't just leave him down there again! I'm coming with you."

"Joe's hurt," Dean said bluntly. He nodded when Steve's mouth fell open. "I need you to stay up here and keep each other safe until we can all get out of here. Joe's got the salt gun. If that asshole Casper shows up, you shoot him."

"I will," Joe said surely but he was speaking to Dean's back, the man already disappearing through the door down to the cellar. He stopped Steve when he started after Dean.

Steve snarled and closed his eyes. "Ok, he's right. He's right. I know it." He turned to Joe instead and his eyes blew wide when he saw spots of blood Joe's shirt. "Oh, my God, baby!"

"Whoa, I'm alright!" Joe gasped as Steve's fingers inadvertently pressed against his wounds while he pulled up his shirt. "Stop, I'm... Dean patched me up enough for now."

Steve's breath stopped in his throat. His hands hovered over the covered marks on his lover's chest and tears pricked at his eyes, both for how close he had come to losing Joe and for the fact that Dean, despite probably being frantic with worry for his Sam, had taken the time to make sure Joe was taken care of.

"Steve?" Joe raised his free hand, the one not still holding the shotgun, to Steve's cheek. "Are you ok?"

Steve sniffed. He cleared his throat and gently pulled Joe's shirt back down. It struck him as he did that it was actually one of his own shirts and he smiled. "Hang on." He turned and pulled the big container of salt he'd found out of the cupboard, then went to the stove and plucked an antique, long-handled ladle from the back of it. "Solid iron," he told Joe as he turned around to face him again. "Sam said iron will work just as well salt. We're going after them."

"Dean told us to wait!" Joe shook his head.

"I know." Steve went back to him and carded his fingers back through Joe's shoulder-length brown hair fondly. "And I know what I felt when I knew you were gone, when I heard you scream out there." He gritted his teeth and placed a hand atop Joe's chest. "When I saw the blood. I know what Dean's feeling right now too, and I can't leave him alone for that. I can't abandon Sam. Not again."

Joe's resolve firmed and he straightened his back. "Ok. But, if Dean gets pissed about this later, promise you'll let him spank me?"

Steve was surprised into a chuckle, though he could hear the thread of fear in Joe's voice. "Deal." He leaned forward and traded a quick brush of lips with his partner and then headed for the stairs.

**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-**

"Sammy!" Dean yelled when he reached the bottom of the cellar stairs. He'd hoped that he would find him there waiting but he was gone. Fled or taken, he had no way of knowing. "Sam!" He jogged down the hall and reached a t-junction. He looked left and right, shining his light each way and moved closer to the wall on the right. There were four faint marks scraped across the surface of the wall; fingernails.

"Jesus, Sam," Dean breathed and knew this was his brother's way of leaving him a trail. The meter in his pocket had gone silent as he ran down the stairs, but it began to whine again as he moved down the hall, slowly gaining volume to let him know he was getting closer. "Sam!"

Dean pushed open a door onto a small room and found crates of wine bottles but no sign of his brother. He pulled the door closed and kept moving. "Sam, you answer me, dammit!"

"Dean!"

The sound of his brother's voice made Dean's heart pound in his chest. It was close, and Dean broke into a run again. He heard what sounded like some sort of scuffle, a series of thumps, and then Sam's voice raised in a shout of pain. "No!" Dean kicked open a door at the end of the hall and shined his flashlight into the room. Sam was on the floor across from him, sitting with his back to the door. "Sammy."

"Dean." Sam sobbed out a breath and reached one arm out as his brother slid to his knees beside him. He shivered when Dean's warm fingers slid over his hand and up his arm. "He's here. Guy's pissed."

"Yeah, I noticed." Dean grimaced, taking in the trickle of blood from Sam's left temple. "Damn. Where else are you hurt?"

Sam shook his head slowly and leaned in to Dean's presence. "Ghost is strong." He pulled his other hand up and held out a short, iron poker. "Found it when he tossed me into a box. That hurt."

Dean smiled for his brother, always thinking on his feet. Even injured and barely standing, Sam had managed to protect Steve, get him to relative safety, and find a weapon of his own. "We're gonna get out of here. Steve and Joe are upstairs. They're safe."

"Joe?" Sam's eyes shot open and he stared up at his brother. "He's alright?"

Dean grinned. "Yeah. He's gonna have a few new scars, but he's ok for now. He's got your gun."

"Good." Sam slipped his arm over his brother's shoulders and rolled his face into his neck. "My head... s'bad."

"It's ok. I've got you." Dean stood cautiously, pulling Sam up with him. "Take this." He put the flashlight into the hand hanging over his shoulder. "Casper killed the lights in the whole damn house."

Sam nodded with a soft groan. "Know. I know. Emergency lights... down here." He bent forward a little while swallowing repeatedly to stave off the need to throw up again.

"You gonna yak?" Dean watched his brother's profile and knew that look, but Sam shook his head.

"Nothing left. Should... we should move." Sam clenched his hand more tightly around the poker. "S'gonna be back."

Dean frowned, realizing that Sam had already been throwing up, but he pushed it down. There'd be time for that later. "Ok. Here we go. One foot in front of the other. You can do that." He started forward, and it took Sam a couple steps to catch up but he managed. "That's it. You got it. Just keep moving. Don't make me carry your heavy ass."

Sam chuckled and got his head up enough to watch where they were going and shine the flashlight ahead of them, albeit unsteadily.

Dean shook his head as they reached the hall and started back the way he had come. "Dude, how did you even manage to run this far?"

"Steve," Sam said simply. "Ghost was coming. Had to... to draw it off."

"So he could come find me." Dean squeezed Sam a little tighter against him. "You did good, Sammy." He tensed when the EMF meter in his pocket began to whine steadily into the upper register again. "Asshole couldn't wait until we were out of the damn cellar?"

"No." The word echoed through the hall and stopped both men in their tracks.

"Uh... Dean?" Sam swallowed.

"Great. That can't be good." Dean groaned and started them moving again. He kept his shotgun level, waiting for any sign of the spirit so he could blast it away again. "Just keep move... shit!" he yelled, feeling invisible hands grasp the front of his jacket and he was lifted from his feet. Dean flew sideways through the air and into the door he had kicked open before. He landed in crash and shower of glass and wine and that blinded him for a moment.

"Dean!" Sam staggered to his knees with the loss of his brother's support. He saw him crash into a stack of boxes and heard glass shatter. Sam used the door frame to get unsteadily back to his feet. The flashlight spun inside the room in a dizzying, disco effect as the light twirled and flashed. For just a moment, he caught sight of his brother's shotgun between them on the floor and he started for it.

"Fuck," Dean groaned. He coughed and spat wine from his mouth while he scrubbed his hands over his face to clear his eyes so he could see. "Sam? You ok?"

"Better than... than you." Sam groaned and hit his knees again as his head spun dizzily.

"Doubt that." Dean lifted up on his elbows. He hissed out a pained breath, feeling broken glass poking and slicing in various places. "Dammit. You see him?"

"No." Sam reached out toward the shotgun and reared back as the spirit appeared before him. "Uh, yes. Dean, look out!" He lunged forward again reaching for the shotgun, and the ghost flung it away from his hand. Sam scrambled backward and startled badly when a shotgun blast sounded over his head. The spirit dispersed with an enraged scream, and then hands were sliding behind his back and pushing him up.

"Sam?" Steve held on to the shaking man.

"Holy crap," Sam slumped back into his arms and pointed while the whine from the EMF went silent. "Dean. Help Dean."

"No, Joe. I'll do it. Here Sam." Steve propped him against the door and went quickly to his brother. "Dean? Oh my, God!" He stared at the man and his eyes couldn't even make sense of just how much red Dean was covered in. A sickening feeling churned through his stomach, the feeling that he was looking at a dead man and then Dean moved. "You're alive?" he asked, shocked.

"Wine." Dean wiped his face off again and held out an arm. "It's fucking... it's wine! I'm covered in it. Get me up and watch the glass."

"Holy shit," Steve breathed out and took Dean's hand. "I thought you were dead." He pulled him up, bracing his foot against Dean's to keep him steady and touched his sopping shirt front gingerly. "Are you sure all of this is wine?"

"Most of it." Dean grimaced and felt the pull of multiple wounds. He hoped they were minor because there was no time right then to deal with them. He scooped his shotgun up from the floor with a determined face. "I got Sam. You grab Joe. We're going up those stairs and out of here right the hell now. Go. Go!"

They were surprised into motion with his shout and Dean went to Sam. "Ok, buddy. Up you come."

Sam groaned and helped his brother get him up with a hand on the door frame. "Fast."

"Yeah." Dean slid in beside Sam and followed Joe and Steve's slightly faster pace up the hall.

"Charms." Sam coughed and cleared his throat as they moved. "We can... make more of those charms we used at the bed... bed and breakfast."

Dean smirked when Steve looked at him over his shoulder. "Dude, I did shots with Jess James' ghost."

"Bullshit." Joe said and craned his head to get a look at Dean.

"He did," Sam said with a hoarse laugh. He groaned again when they turned a corner and the stairs were in sight. "Dean..."

"You can make it." Dean hitched Sam's arm higher on his shoulders and started up them, not giving Sam's abused head time to protest. He hiked Sam up the cellar stairs, taking more and more of his weight until they reached the top. "Keep moving. Front door, now." They only had a finite amount of time to escape the house before the ghost returned and made sure they were locked down. Every inch of him was itching with the need to get out before their ticking clock ran out. Of course, outside was a pissed off monster full of rock salt, but first thing's first.

Sam moved in a daze and startled when hands took his other arm. He turned his head and found Joe watching him worriedly. Sam managed a small smile as they reached the front door. "M'ok."

"Dude, you look worse than me," Joe said softly, miserably. He let Sam lean against him while Dean yanked the front door open and grinned.

"Nice. Go. Go! Quick!" Dean forced the other three men out of the door and down the steps to the driveway. A moment later, the front door of the big house slammed shut, surprising them all. He turned and watched as every light in every room began to flicker on and off randomly. "That was close.

"Are we safe?" Steve asked and started Joe moving toward the van.

"Not that way. The Impala's at the gate, and no, we're not exactly safe yet." Dean grabbed Sam again and pulled him along. "That bastard's got the gate sealed shut. We're gonna have to go over it. Oh, and there's still a monster out here somewhere."

Joe groaned loud and long at that and let his head roll over to rest on Steve's shoulder as they walked. "Just throw me over."

Steve snorted and pulled him close. "I'll get you over."

Dean eyed the gate once they neared it and sighed. "This isn't gonna be fun."

"I know." Sam reached his hands out and took hold of the bars. "Just, shove me up and I'll roll over."

"Steve, go over first and catch him, ok?" Dean wasn't about to hop that gate without Sam being over it first; not with the spirit still lurking. Just for the hell of it, he went to the bars and checked. The lock was still open. Dean took hold of one leaf and pulled, but as before, it rattled and stayed stubbornly closed. "Would have been nice."

Steve reluctantly left Joe leaning beside Sam and scrambled over top of the gate with a hand up from Dean. He dropped to the other side and reached through the bars to touch Joe's shoulder. "Easy."

"Alright, Joe. Let's get you..."

"Sam first," Joe argued and pushed Dean toward his brother. "Before he passes out. Look at him."

"Shit," Dean said with feeling when he got a look at his brother's pale face. Joe was right; Sam was heading for some serious unconscious time whether he wanted to or not and soon. "Steve?"

"Yeah, get Sam over here quick." Steve gave his consent easily. He smiled at Joe and put his arms up to catch Sam.

"Ok, little brother." Dean knelt down and cupped his hands together. "Gimme a foot, Sam." He waited but his brother didn't move. He put the force of a command into his voice. "Sammy. Foot."

"Uh, right." Sam shook his head and opened his eyes, responding instinctively to the tone. "Sorry." He put his right foot into Dean's hands and concentrated on not falling over backwards as he was lifted quickly up to the top. Dean kept pushing and Sam had no choice but to go over and roll his legs to the other side. He felt Steve's hands push his legs out of the way, and then he was falling. Steve was there to catch him, grunting under his weight, and soon he found himself being leaned against the Impala's comforting hood.

"I saw that." Dean called and grinned. "You smiled. You missed mah baby."

Sam gave a weak laugh and waved an arm. "Shut... shut up and get over here before I puke on her."

Dean's grinned widened and he turned to Joe, kneeling in front of him like he had Sam. "He called her 'her'. He loves her. He just won't fess up to it, the big girl."

Joe shook his head, laughing fondly as he gave his foot to Dean. When he reached the top and took hold, he froze; unsure how to get over without scraping his bandaged chest on the metal. "Um... how?"

"Ok, just..." Dean grunted and pushed, straining to get all his might under the heavy man. "Sit... and swing... fuck... your legs over." He shoved, raising his arms and Joe higher up the gate until the man was able to sit. Dean panted for breath and stepped back to watch as Joe swung first one leg and then other over, and the way Steve was there to wrap him up in his arms as he dropped. Dean grimaced in sympathy with Joe's pained cry on the landing, knowing those wounds had to hurt like hell.

"Ok, Dean. Your turn." Steve eyed the top of the gate. "How are you going to get over that alone?"

Dean snorted and rolled out his shoulders. "Same way we got in." He ran for two steps, jumped and caught the top of the gate. He swung a leg up, balancing himself at the top and dropped over the side, landing with cat-like grace despite his injuries. In spite of the situation, Steve's eyes widened in admiration, and maybe something just a little bit more. He frowned and pushed that thought out of his head just as the meter in Dean's pocket began to scream again. "Shit," Dean gasped and danced backward while the gate rattled in its frame. "Ok, everybody in the car. We're outta here."

Sam started toward the passenger door. He staggered and turned around when a fresh rattling sound filled the night air. He watched in surprise while the heavy metal gates slid slowly open. He stared for a moment, then smirked and started laughing so that he had to lean up against the car to avoid falling down.

"Casper, you ASSHOLE!" Dean screamed through the open gate toward the house.

"That's..." Steve wiped his eyes as he laughed and rested an arm on Joe's shaking shoulders beside him. "That's just insulting."

All three men laughed at the outrageousness of the whole situation while Dean glared between them and the open gate. "Gonna find your ass and I'm gonna dance on your damn grave!" Dean yelled and finally turned away to the car. "Get in the damn car, Sammy."

Sam wheezed out another laugh and pulled the passenger door open. "What'd you do to piss him off? I mean, wow."

"Fucking ghosts," Dean grumbled. He slid behind the wheel and gave the house a last glare before he started the car and pulled away with all his precious cargo intact.

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Dean sat beside Sam on the spacious, king size bed and smirked down at him. Sam was on his side and curled up around Dean's hip with his head resting against his bent knee. "You ok, Sammy?"

"Bed's still spinning," Sam reported in a muffled voice. "S'getting better though." He sniffed his brother's knee and smirked. "You still smell like a winery."

"Dude, I've showered twice!" Dean sniffed his own shoulder and sighed because Sam was right; he could still smell wine on his skin. He looked over at the other king size bed when he heard a snort of laughter and raised a finger at Joe. "Don't you start." He didn't know how Steve had known there was a hotel in town with a king size double but he was glad. It made him feel better having all of them in one room after the night they'd spent, and knowing that, despite being away from the freakin' haunted house, there was still a monster prowling the area that had apparently set its sights on their friends. He smiled when Steve opened the room door and appeared with a fresh bucket of ice and new towels.

"How are the patients?" Steve asked while he set the bucket down on the table.

"Ornery." Sam raised a hand and slapped his brother's arm lightly.

"Ow, bitch!" Dean grimaced and held a hand over the bandaged cut Sam had smacked. He had a half-dozen shallow cuts on his arms, back, and chest from the broken wine bottles. "Knock it off." He dragged his fingers through Sam's hair a last time soothingly and stood. "Ok, Joe. You ready for some stitches?"

Joe groaned but nodded. "You sure we shouldn't be letting a doctor do this?"

Dean smirked and sat next to Joe's hip. "Dude, the only way you get stitches neater than mine is with Sammy."

Sam smiled at the praise. "We used to practice on orange peels when we were kids." Sam shrugged, groaned as abused muscles all across his back pulled and rolled onto his stomach. "Ow."

"That's a little sad. No offense." Steve loaded a few Zip-Lock bags with ice and watched while Dean uncovered Joe's wounds again. He shivered, seeing how close he had come to losing the love of his life.

"Hey. He's gonna be fine," Dean said and smiled when he saw the look on Steve's face. It was the same feeling he'd had as a teenager the first time Sam had been hurt on a hunt. "Few stitches and I'll have him fixed up good as new."

"Thank you," Steve said gratefully. Another pained sound from Sam put his attention back on the younger brother. He grimaced in sympathy, taking in the bruises across his back. Steve knelt up on the bed next to him. "Here, Sam."

Sam gasped with the feel of thinly wrapped bags of ice laid against the skin on his back. "Crap."

"I know. But it will help." Steve swung a leg over Sam's hips and settled carefully atop him. "I can help. Joe says I've got magic hands."

"Fuck yeah, he does." Joe grinned over at Sam. "You're gonna love this. Shit!" he exclaimed suddenly as Dean brushed a wet pad of gauze over his chest.

"Sorry." Dean flattened his palm to Joe's stomach below the claw marks. He took the antiseptic in his other hand and started again. "Wanna be sure these don't get infected." Dean's head jerked to his right when heard Sam let out a filthy-sounding, happy groan. He grinned and watched Steve work his fingers over the back of Sam's neck above and below the collar.

Sam sighed in bliss as Steve moved from his neck to his shoulders. He turned his head to the side and watched Dean working on Joe. He didn't get many opportunities to watch Dean care for someone the way he did Sam. It was somehow sexy as hell watching Dean's sure hands soothing over Joe's skin in between the stitches. He felt Steve leaning a little heavier over his back and smiled knowing they were both watching.

Dean laid a row of careful, precise stitches along the wound lowest Joe's chest, seven in all. He snipped the last thread and ran a hand soothingly up and down the warm skin over his ribs. Joe shivered under his touch and Dean smiled.

"You do this for Sam?" Joe asked softly and a little breathlessly. "Take his mind off of it?"

Dean smiled again and nodded. He brushed his fingers over Joe's nipples until they tightened under the pads of his fingers. "He has trouble staying still for me sometimes."

Joe arched carefully as Dean dragged one hand down to his stomach and laughed. "Can't imagine why."

Steve huffed out a little laugh. It was tantalizing watching Dean handle Joe so gently and do it so well. He put his attention back on Sam though. He enjoyed the feel of shifting muscles under Sam's skin as he massaged back and forth. Steve pulled his knuckles heavily down either side of Sam's spine and earned another dirty groan. He smirked when Sam's hips pushed back into him reflexively.

"Good, Sam?" Steve asked and began tracing the faint scars across Sam's back, wondering faintly about how much these two had really been through in their lives. Sam 'hmmm'd in response and Steve chuckled. He leaned down tentatively, unable to help himself, and ran his tongue along one jagged, old scar on the back of Sam's left shoulder blade.

Sam shivered, moaned and rolled his head back into the pillow with the sensation of Steve's tongue. He knew what he was doing without having to ask. "Poltergeist."

Steve hummed and moved his mouth to the next, this one lower and nearly invisible with age. It sat above Sam's left kidney and he laved it with his tongue. "This one?"

"Uh... that's..." Sam's hips rolled back into Steve again and he could feel the man's cock against his ass; already half-hard. "Wendigo."

"Mmm hmm." Steve pulled his nails lightly down Sam's sides, toppling the little bags of ice as the man shuddered with the touch. He found a new scar and licked around the little half moon before biting his teeth around it gently.

Sam whined softly, unable to stop the noise or his hips from humping into the mattress below him. "Fuck... uh... vampire."

"Fuck me, that's hot," Joe's voice breathed into the room.

Steve and Sam both turned their heads and found the other two men watching avidly. Steve indulged himself and rolled his own hips down again and felt Sam's breath stutter with the friction. He met Dean's eyes and saw his own hunger reflected there. "Think they'd both feel better if we... relieved a little tension. Don't you?"

Dean gave him a dirty grin and slid down to lay in the 'v' of Joe's legs. "Sam likes it to burn."

"Oh fuck," Sam breathed and dutifully lifted his hips as Steve's hands slipped under him to tug his sweatpants down.

"Joe's got a weak spot on the inside of either hip." Steve grinned and moved just enough to leave Sam naked before pushing his legs far enough apart to slide between them; mirroring Dean but with Sam on his stomach.

Joe groaned while Dean's fingers tugged and shimmied his own sweatpants down. He slid a hand over his chest to brace it and his fingers tangled with Dean's. He lifted his head and found Dean's beautiful green eyes peering up at him.

"Don't worry. Won't let you hurt yourself," Dean assured him in a husky voice. He bent his head while Joe moaned again and licked a wet path up the inside of his right hip.

Joe threw his head back as Dean sealed his lips over that spot on the inside of his hip and sucked. "Fuck. Fuck!" He whimpered and was left gasping when Dean finally pulled back. He gasped a little as the motion pulled at his stitches. Dean leaned away a bit and frowned in concern. "Don't you dare stop!" Joe said breathlessly.

Dean chuckled, leaned back down. and licked at the head of Joe's cock. He let his eyes fall on the next bed over as Sam's voice rose in a loud, cracking moan. Steve's head was buried between his brother's legs. "Fuck yes."

Sam writhed on the bed with the sinful feeling of Steve's tongue tracing the outer rim of his hole. "Oh, God." He twitched as the muscles in his back pulled and a moment later, Steve's hands slid up the curve of his ass, over the small of his back and pressed down to hold him in place. Sam's breath stuttered out of him and he fisted both hands into the bed sheet. He was left with his mouth hanging open as Steve forced two fingers into him. It burned along his spine and quickly faded into mind-numbing pleasure. "Yes, yes, yes," Sam panted. He begged and tried to lift his hips higher in search of more, and the fact that Steve managed to hold him down so effectively made him whimper as the man brushed his fingers over his prostate.

Steve leaned back and slithered up over Sam to rest himself on his back, using his weight to keep him from hurting himself. He pulled his fingers out and added a third with a quick thrust that earned him a yell. "That's it, Sam."

Dean gave a thunderous groan of his own just watching. His mouth watered with the urge to taste his brother, and he turned to Joe instead. He let Joe's cock slide across his lips and waited for the man to pick up his head and look at him, knowing just the picture he painted, having had Sam tell him more times than he could count. Dean met Joe's glazed eyes, blink his long lashes and slowly sucked in Joe's cock and let his eyes flutter closed.

"Oh... my fucking God." Joe whined blatantly. "Your lips, and... I can't... Steve, his lips!" Dean hummed as he pulled Joe's cock to the back of his throat and grinned around his length when he was forced to press Joe's hips into the bed to keep him still.

"Christ," Steve shoved his fingers hard into Sam, making him whine again, and nudged his head with his chin. "You see them, Sam?"

Sam turned his head with a whimper that became a groan of his brother's name. "Dean." He watched Dean's mouth work Joe's cock, those soft, pillowy lips stretching and glistening, and Sam's own cock thickened more where it was pressed between his stomach and the bed.

"Gonna come for me?" Steve growled in Sam's ear. He used his free hand to slide down under Sam and curled his fingers around the stiff length of his dick. He smiled, feeling how wet it already was from precome. He squeezed Sam's length in his hand and felt him trembling underneath him as he used his fingers inside Sam to rub at his prostate constantly. "Go over for me, Sam."

Joe's eyes couldn't tear themselves away from the sight on the other bed. He couldn't stop watching the way Sam began to vibrate beneath Steve, and he knew his lover was milking Sam's prostate. Lord knew he'd done it to Joe enough times. "Sam," Joe gasped and felt his own orgasm sneak up on him as Sam arched beneath Steve and cried out. "Fuck!"

Dean pulled back until only the tip of Joe's cock was still in his mouth and he sucked, as if pulling the come from him. He had to use real force to keep the man from reinjuring himself as his body tried to curl up on the bed. Dean tilted his head just enough to watch his brother and Steve. The sight of Sam shouting out his pleasure and shaking as he came hard brought Dean's own orgasm thundering down on him. He shoved his hips into the bed while he swallowed around Joe and came; groaning around the cock in his mouth and drawing Joe's release out even more.

"Fuck. Oh, fuck. Too much." Steve gasped. He rolled his hips into Sam's over and over while Sam continued to come and tremble beneath him and took a mouthful of skin at Sam's neck as he came in his pants. He yelled into Sam's flesh and collapsed carefully to the side of the younger Winchester with an exhausted chuckle. "Holy... holy shit."

Sam nodded but didn't move. He had no energy left to do anything but watch his brother while Dean slowly drew his mouth from Joe and leaned up on an elbow. "Dean."

Dean grinned over at his brother. Sam was close to unconscious from the force of his orgasm- and probably the lingering effects of a concussion- and he nodded. "Right here, little brother. You can sleep." He turned to look down at Joe and curved a hand around the man's face as he panted. "Joe? You good?"

Joe chuckled softly, completely out of breath and managed to crack one eye open. "So... so good. Wow."

Steve snorted a laugh and got carefully out of the bed. He brushed a hand down Sam's naked back as he withdrew his fingers and smiled when Sam whimpered. "Easy, Sam."

"I got him." Dean smoothed a hand down Joe's hip and slid off the bed. He stood and pulled his jeans away from his crotch with a grimace. "Feel like a teenager."

"You and me both." Steve shrugged and shucked his jeans off. He vanished in the bathroom for a moment and returned, tossing a damp cloth to Dean with a smile. He stopped beside him and reached out to unbuckle Dean's jeans for him. "Thank you for taking care of Joe."

Dean sucked in a breath when Steve's fingers brushed his still sensitive cock through the denim. He glanced at the two sleeping man and looked back to Steve with a smirk. "You know, once we get all this shit taken care of, we could drive them fuckin' nuts makin' 'em watch." He trailed a finger nail up the center of Steve's chest and chuckled as the man shivered.

"Oh. Oh, we are so doing that." Steve laughed and clasped Dean's shoulder before heading to the bed and climbing across it to lay beside Joe. "Hey, baby."

Dean grinned and stripped his own jeans off. He cleaned himself up, tossed the rag into the bathroom and quickly pulled on Sam's discarded sweat pants before getting into bed beside his brother. He made sure his knife was under his pillow and his gun in easy reach before he settled in. "We'll find your ghost and toast his happy ass tomorrow. Guaranteed."

"Fucking hope so," Steve groaned and pulled Joe carefully in against his chest. "I like that house."

Dean chuckled and slid an arm low across Sam's back. He pressed a kiss to his brother's shoulder and rested his chin above his head on the pillow. "Night, Sammy."

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_To Be Continued..._


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: I'd say... two more chapters. :D 
> 
> Graphic depictions within. Beta'd by the always awesome JaniceC678
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own 'em but if I did, they'd never get dressed.
> 
> ~Reviews are love~

 

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_Steve shrugged and shucked his jeans off. He vanished in the bathroom for a moment and returned, tossing a damp cloth to Dean with a smile. He stopped beside him and reached out to unbuckle Dean's jeans for him. "Thank you for taking care of Joe."_

_Dean sucked in a breath when Steve's fingers brushed his still sensitive cock through the denim. He glanced at the two sleeping man and looked back to Steve with a smirk. "You know, once we get all this shit taken care of, we could drive them fuckin' nuts makin' 'em watch." He trailed a finger nail up the center of Steve's chest and chuckled as the man shivered._

_"Oh. Oh, we are so doing that." Steve laughed and clasped Dean's shoulder before heading to the bed and climbing across it to lay beside Joe. "Hey baby."_

_Dean grinned and stripped his own jeans off. He cleaned himself up, tossed the rag into the bathroom and quickly pulled on Sam's discarded sweat pants before getting into bed beside his brother. He made sure his knife was under his pillow and his gun in easy reach before he settled in. "We'll find your ghost and toast his happy ass tomorrow. Guaranteed."_

_"Fucking hope so," Steve groaned and pulled Joe carefully in against his chest. "I like that house."_

_Dean chuckled and slid an arm low across Sam's back. He pressed a kiss to his brother's shoulder and rested his chin above his head on the pillow. "Night, Sammy."_

**Chapter 5**

Dean woke slowly. A comforting weight lay half across his chest and he smiled recognizing Sam's breaths puffing against his throat. He cracked his eyes open and lifted his head enough to look down. Sam was sprawled across him, one arm over his chest, both legs wrapped around Dean's right leg and somehow he had managed to work his left arm beneath his brother's shoulders. Dean looked up as the bathroom door opened and Steve came out, toweling his hair dry.

Steve chuckled and nodded to the bed and Sam, whose limbs were clearly wrapped and tangled around Dean under the thin blanket. "He always sleep like that? Octopus style?"

"Anytime we get hurt." Dean smirked and smoothed a hand up Sam's bare back beneath the blanket. "He gets clingy."

"It's fucking adorable." Steve shook his head fondly and pulled the door shut on the sound of the still running shower. The smile fell from his face and he tossed his towel to the table, hitching his jeans up on his hips. "Joe's... he's off this morning."

Dean felt the last dregs of sleep slip away as he remembered what Bobby had told him the day before. "Over emotional? Depressed? That kinda thing?"

Steve frowned. "Yeah."

"It's not him." Dean shook his head. "I mean it is him, but it's like a symptom. That creature at the house?" Steve nodded and Dean sighed. "We think it's feeding off him." He tightened his arm around Sam and added the other one, pulling him in impossibly closer. "Off of them."

"Feeding?" Steve sat up straighter and felt a surge of anger.

"When Sam was in the hospital, they said a bunch of chemicals in his brain were out of balance. Things that would make him depressed and anxious and shit like that." Dean blew out a breath and relaxed his hold on his brother a little when he felt Sam begin to stir. "That creature, whatever the hell it is, I think it's feeding off their emotions or something and causing the... the imbalance."

Steve sat back with a thump and ran his hands through his damp hair, straightening it out. "Well that explains things a little. I mean, Joe's always been a little prone to sub-drop but nothing like the last month." He covered his face with his hands for a moment and took a deep breath. "Felt like I was failing him."

"It's the creature. Just remember that." Dean felt Sam's hand slide up his chest and smirked. "Mornin', Sunshine."

"Mmf," Sam grumbled. Rather than lift his head, he burrowed harder against his brother.

"Nope. Come on. We got a ghost to roast and a creature to gank. You can have your beauty sleep later." Dean smiled as he teased, but he was alert for any sign of the same emotional reactions Joe was having trouble with and that Sam seemed to be developing too. He felt Sam tense against him and watched while his brother's head lifted up finally to peer at him. "Sammy?"

"Um..."

"What? What is it?" Dean's concern grew with the uncomfortable look on his brother's face.

Sam ducked his head and cleared his throat. "I can't feel my left arm."

"You can't..." Dean stopped and then burst into laughter. He rolled a little and sat up, sliding Sam off his chest and allowing his brother to pull his arm out from underneath him. "How many times, Sam?"

"Shuddup," Sam groused and held on to his numb arm.

Dean snickered and grabbed the arm. "Come on. Let me do it."

Steve watched them and chuckled. "Pins and needles are a bitch."

"Keep tellin' him not to wrap me up." Dean rubbed his hands vigorously up and down Sam's arm, encouraging the blood flow. "Keeps on doing it anyway."

"I'm asleep," Sam protested grumpily. "It's not like I do it on purpose. Ow, ow, ow."

"Yeah, I know." Dean leaned over and bit at Sam's ear.

"Hey!"

"Just taking your mind off it, princess." Dean snickered and kept hold of Sam's arm when his brother tried to pull it away.

Steve laughed and stood. "I'm gonna go check on Joe. Try not to maim each other?"

"No promises!" Sam shouted and turned a glare on his brother.

"Sammy." Dean slid one hand up Sam's arm to his shoulder and then to his neck, catching the elephant hair collar on his fingers. "Any better?"

Sam opened his mouth to yell and then snapped it closed. "I..." He stopped and shook his head. "I'm flipping out over nothing again, aren't I?" He twitched as the feeling of pins and needles crawled up and down his arm, but Dean's firm fingers massaging the muscles were helping.

"Just a bit, yeah." Dean shrugged and gave the collar a brief tug before he went back to rubbing with both hands. "Don't worry about it. We know why it's happening."

"We think we know why it's happening." Sam amended for his brother and blew out a hard breath. "I need to call Bobby."

"Pants first." Dean chuckled. "Calling Bobby without pants on is just weird.

Sam laughed softly at that and pulled his arm back. He bent his elbow a few times and rolled his shoulder out and leaned over to drop a kiss on Dean's mouth. "It's better. Thank you."

Dean watched him get up and pull a pair of jeans out of his bag. He looked at the array of bruises on Sam's body and thought it was a wonder he was even moving. It sobered him, knowing how close he had come to losing Sam. "Where you going?" he asked when Sam pulled on a t-shirt and headed for the door.

"Call Bobby. Find Coffee." Sam smiled and held up his phone. "Promise. No getting into trouble."

"Famous last friggin' words," Dean grumbled when his brother left. He made himself move after that and had a pair of jeans on by the time Steve and Joe emerged from the bathroom. Joe was smiling and Dean took that as a good sign. "Hey, I wanted to tell you two, thank you."

"For what?" Joe asked curiously. He rolled his eyes when Steve pointed an imperiously to the chair and the first aid kit on the table beside it.

Dean smiled, taking in the wounds across Joe's chest and happy to see his stitches were holding and that none of them looked to be infected. He pulled a shirt out of his bag and sat on the end of the bed. "Thanks for coming after us last night." Dean looked at them seriously. "You came down into that cellar knowing what you were facing. That took real guts. Most people woudn't have been able to do it." He snorted derisively. "Hell, most people would have run the other way. Dean took in the looks of pride and embarrassment on both their faces and grinned. "Now I want you both to promise me you'll never pull that hero crap again."

"What?" Joe asked in surprise.

"Sammy and me, we do this shit for a living. We were raised doing this." Dean pulled his shirt on and looked at them again. "I'm glad you guys came after us last night, and, yeah, if you hadn't been there, things might have been a lot worse, but we weren't screwed. I'd have gotten us out of there." Steve opened his mouth and Dean knew it was to argue so he raised a finger and stared until he closed it. "The ghost was focused on Sam when you came through the door. I had plenty of time to roll outta that pile, grab the gun and shoot the asshole long enough to get us both out. With you two in the mix, we start worrying about protecting you instead of ourselves. We'll take damage to save you from it." Dean shrugged. "That's just how we were raised."

Steve put a hand to Joe's shoulder and stared at Dean. "Who the fuck did that to you two as kids? I mean seriously? Who raises their children like that?"

Dean smiled sadly. Steve sounded a little horrified and he supposed he couldn't blame him. "Our dad. In his defense, our mom was murdered by a demon in Sam's nursery when he was six months old." His voice dropped and anger threaded through it. "It burned her alive right in front of us. After that, well, dad was just doing what he thought he had to to keep us safe."

"Jesus," Joe breathed.

Dean snorted. "Pretty sure Jesus didn't have anything to do with it." He shook himself and went to the men, putting a hand on the shoulder of each and smiled again. "I really am grateful you were there. That was brave as hell, what you did. Thanks."

Steve stared. He smiled. He stared again and then shook his head with a laugh. "I kind of feel like a chastised child right now, but I get it." He pulled Dean in and hugged the man, though he knew Dean wasn't big on displays of casual affection outside of Sam. "But I have to tell you," he said and hugged Dean a little tighter. "That I'd do it again. I care about you both. We do. And there's no way we'd let you risk your lives for us without doing the same in return."

Dean laughed and thumped a hand into Steve's back. He looked down at Joe's face and the fervent nod the man was giving him and rolled his eyes. "Then we'll just have to make sure you don't get put in any more danger."

"That would be nice, yes," Steve agreed easily, chuckled, and leaned back to let Dean go. "I'd prefer that really, if we're getting a choice."

Dean nodded and headed for the bathroom. "Sam went to get coffee. Tell him to bring mine in when he gets..." He broke off when the room door opened and Sam stepped inside with a frightened look on his face. "Sammy?"

"Dean, come here." Sam looked over and tried to smile, but it was belied by the tension radiating off of him. "Morning, guys."

"Everything alright, Sam?" Steve asked with a frown, and though Sam nodded, he got the distinct impression he was being lied to.

"I just need Dean." Sam shook his head and stepped back outside.

"Alrighty, then." Dean shrugged at the look of confusion Steve gave him. "Tell you in a minute, I guess." He followed his brother outside and pulled the door to the room closed. "What's goin' on, Sam? You call Bobby?"

Sam shook his head. He ran a hand through his hair and pointed to the window of their room. "That first. Look."

"What?" Dean turned to look at the building. He was about to turn away and ask Sam what the hell was going on again when his eyes fell on the bare patch of dirt beneath the window. There were footprints, and, as Dean got closer to look, he saw they belonged to their creature. He let his eyes go back up to the window and saw there were several smudges on the outside of the glass, like something wet had pressed against it. "Fuck. It was here?"

Sam nodded and wrapped his arms around himself. "It's worse than that. It... Dean, it killed someone down the street last night."

Dean spun around and stared at his brother in shock. "How do you know?"

"Guts torn out. One of the cleaning staff here found her." Sam's voice was soft and he closed his eyes. "I heard them talking when I went to the office for coffee. She was a prostitute. They knew her, I guess.

"Son of a bitch." Dean rubbed a hand over his face. He wanted to scream and rage. He wanted to find the damn thing and tear it apart. He went to Sam instead and pulled his brother into his arms. "Hey. This isn't our fault."

"It followed us," Sam said miserably and let his head rest on Dean's shoulders. "It came after us and when it couldn't get to us, it killed her instead."

"Sammy, we're not to blame for this. Come on." Dean held him tighter and could feel Sam trembling against him. "You know that."

Sam shook his head and buried his face in his brother's neck. He could feel his emotions sliding out of his control, taking a nosedive into depression and sadness and couldn't stop it. "She's dead because we came here."

"No, dammit, Sam." Dean pushed his brother back enough to see his face and glared at him. "That creature did this. It killed her. It killed all those people, and it's been feeding off of you." He stopped and pointed a finger toward the room. "And Joe. It's screwing with your heads, both of you, and fuck knows what else it's doing to you."

"Joe." Sam sobered with that thought. It was one thing to find himself on the receiving end of a creature's attention but another for it to be someone he cared about. Anger flowed through him and a desire to protect, which helped clear his head a little. He took a deep breath and another and nodded to his brother. "Ok. I'm ok."

"You will be." Dean rubbed his hands up and down Sam's arms and gave him a nudge toward the room. "We have to tell them. They're gonna hear about it, and I'd rather they hear it from us right now, especially Joe."

"Shit," Sam said with feeling. "If he reacts half as badly as I just did..."

"I'd say that's a good bet, yeah." Dean bit his lip and sighed. "Tell you what. You go call Bobby and I'll tell them."

"Are you trying to protect me from having another meltdown?" Sam asked and quirked a brow at his brother.

Dean grinned and shrugged, unashamed. "Yep. Go talk to Bobby. I got this."

Sam considered arguing and then thought better of it. "Ok. Better it's me who talks to Bobby anyway." He smirked at Dean. "I've actually read most of his books."

"Shuddup." Dean slapped his arm and headed for the room.

Sam chuckled and took his phone out while he headed back to the office. They were definitely going to need coffee. He smiled when Bobby answered with his usual early morning, grumpy voice. "Morning, Bobby."

"What? It's ass o'clock in the am, and you boys couldn't call me last night?" Bobby growled over the line. "Think I got nothin' better to do than sit here worryin' about whether or not you two idjits are still in one piece? No. I organized my socks. That's what. And it was an exciting damn event."

Sam snickered and grinned. "Sorry, Bobby. Things went a little sideways last night, but we all made it out alive and in one piece, more or less. Little banged up, but we're good."

"Damn well better be." Bobby rolled his eyes and sat back in his chair. "I figured the ghost was playin' games when my calls didn't make it through."

"Yeah, he's pissed, whoever he is." Sam leaned against the wall outside the hotel office. "Got a real hard on for Dean, too. It's like Dean personally offended him or something."

Bobby snorted a laugh. "Your brother talk to him? 'Cause that would do it."

Sam laughed. "Something like that. Did you find out who it is?"

"Think so. Got information on your creature too but spirit first." Bobby pulled over a notebook and held it up to the light. "Looks like your spook is one David Brantley. He built the house 'bout eighty years ago. He made an oil strike out west, sunk a small fortune into that place, and then the well dried up." Bobby snorted. "Should'a seen that comin'. Anyway, money starts runnin' out. The local bank tried to repo the house. They wanted to sell off everything in it in an estate sale."

"Oh, man," Sam groaned.

"Yeah." Bobby nodded. "So when you boys started tearin' out the interior..."

"We set him off." Sam put a hand to his head and sighed.

"Wouldn't have taken much. Some poor sucker moves the wrong damn vase and wham! Instant honked-off poltergeist." Bobby set the notes aside. "Here's the kicker. He's buried on the damn property."

"What?" Sam startled. "Where? I've been over most of the grounds and I never saw a grave."

"It ain't marked." Bobby shivered a little. "Ol' Dave weren't exactly firin' on all cylinders when he was alive. He knew the bank was gonna come and roust him on outta there. He said over his dead body and disappeared. Accordin' to the town gossip at the time, his butler said the old man dug himself a grave on the property and buried himself in it."

"Wait. Hang on." Sam scowled. "How the hell do you bury yourself?"

Bobby nodded and smirked. "Exactly. The police at the time didn't buy it either, which is why it made the papers." He chuckled. "They found the grave, dug him up, and it was obvious the poor bastard had been tryin' to claw his way outta the box when he died. Then they found the shovel that buried him and a few thousand dollars tucked away in the servant's quarters and..." Bobby paused for effect. "... the butler did it."

Sam barked a laugh. "You've been waiting to say that since last night, haven't you?"

"It hurt keepin' that one in. Don't judge me." Bobby chuckled and smiled. "There was no mention of where the butler planted his boss, but I figure you can find it on your own. After they arrested his happy ass, they left the old man where they found him. No one much cared about givin' the grumpy bastard a proper burial."

"Harsh way to die, buried alive." Sam commented with a small shudder. "No wonder he's so pissed off."

"Yeah; that'd do it. Now, your other little problem."

"Little. Yeah." Sam leaned back against the wall again and tried not to let the feelings overwhelm yet again.

"Sam, this ain't no garden variety monster." Bobby leaned on the desk and looked at the old book he had open atop it. "It's a cambion."

"A..." Sam thought for a moment. The name was familiar and he frowned. "Aren't they supposed to be the... the offspring of a succubus and an incubus?"

"That's them. Nasty little buggars, too. These things feed on sexual energy, Sam." Bobby rolled his eyes again, but, damn, were his boys on the wrong hunt considering how often he'd caught them with their pants down, literally and figuratively. "Lore says they're demonic in origin, but that's from the bible-thumpers and the cambion's older than that; predates the bible by... well, a lot." He pulled the book closer to look at the notes he'd made and stuck in the pages. "It can't turn its prey into brainwashed drones like an incubus or succubus, but it's got its own way of feeding."

"Sexual energy." Sam groaned.

"Uh, yeah. It can screw with its victim's head. Accordin' to this, besides messing with emotions, it can maybe even create a hallucinatory state, something real nightmarish, apparently, once it actually gets its claws into someone." Bobby shook his head in disgust. "It'll feed from a distance for a while and then finish 'em off in person, and it ain't pretty. I got one account from the nineteenth century from a guy who was saved. He said he thought his wife was, well, attacking him and raping him 'til the cavalry showed up, chased it off, and he saw what it really was."

"Jesus, Bobby," Sam said, horrified. Even more so when he realized the cambion had already had its claws in Joe the night before, and he went cold wondering what the poor man would have gone through if Dean hadn't gotten to him in time. "How do we kill it?"

"Well, that's the problem. Some of the lore, the biblical stuff, says an exorcism'll do it. If you use the angelic salutation in the original Latin."

"Huh. I know that one." Sam ran over it in his head. "It's not even that long. That shouldn't be too hard."

"Remember what I said about it predating the bible?" Bobby snorted. "Take that one with a big ol' grain of salt. Now, there's a Mesopotamian bit of lore that says sunlight will kill it, or make it possible TO kill it. The wording sucks. I hate cuneiform."

Sam chuckled. "You and me both."

"Right. Near as I can tell, if nothing else, sunlight will hurt it or weaken it." Bobby shrugged and pushed the book away. "Enough so you can kill it for real. It feeds in darkness."

"So the cambion." Sam looked out at the busy street on the other side of the parking lot and tried to stay calm. "It's... it's screwing with my head, isn't it?"

"Yeah."

"Why me?" Sam asked, suddenly frustrated. "Why not Dean?"

Bobby swallowed and tried to think how to phrase it. "Well, I imagine it'd have somethin' to do with... with what you're feelin' when you... when you're... um..."

"Bobby?"

"Aw, hell." Bobby scrubbed a hand through his hair and knocked his cap to the floor. He held the phone tighter with his other hand and closed his eyes. "Sam, I know." He couldn't believe he was having to do this - and over the phone, no less - but dammit, his boys were in danger and there was no more time for him to pussy-foot around about it.

Sam frowned in confusion. "Know what?"

Bobby rolled his eyes and swallowed again. "I know, son. And it's ok. I've known about you boys for a long damn time, and I'm tellin' you, it's ok."

"You..." Sam's eyes went wide. Shock blew through him and then horror, and he dropped to his knees, clenching the phone to his ear in a white-knuckled grip. "Bobby?"

"Hey, hey. Sam, breathe, alright?" Bobby stood and paced, listening to Sam's frantic breaths over the phone. "Come on, son. It's ok. You're ok. We're ok! Calm down now." He groaned and hated that they were having this conversation on the damn phone. "Dammit. I'm sorry. I'd have never said anything, but there's no way to talk about what the cambion's doin' to you without talking about that; and you boys are more important to me than avoiding havin' the damn 'talk' with you."

"You know," Sam breathed out in shock, unable to get past that simple statement. He stared down at the ground, trying to control his ragged breathing.

"I wanted to tell you boys together," Bobby said softly and paced over to lean a hand on his bookshelf. "I figured I'd do it here, you know, in person." He snorted. "The next time I heard you two doin' things I try not to think about in my garage."

"Oh, my God."

"Yeah. Good acoustics in that garage. And you two ain't exactly subtle the rest of the time either." Bobby chuckled. "Sam. Son. It's alright. I'm not gonna disown you or any other fool thing that's runnin' through your head right now, and, shit," He slapped a hand to his forehead. "I should'a told Dean. You got that damn creature playin' games with your head, and here I am droppin' a bomb on you. Shit, Sam. I'm sorry. I'd never have done it this way, but you boys needed to know that creature's latched on to you because you're, you know... because Dean's a dominant asshole."

Sam felt a laugh bubble up that, because Bobby was right; Dean was, in the best possible way. But fear quickly overrode the humor. He rubbed a hand over his cheeks, taking away tears he hadn't realized he'd shed. "You don't... hate us?"

Bobby's heart broke a little at the soft, wounded tone of Sam's voice, like a dog waiting to be kicked. "No, son. Never happen. You hear me?" He rolled his eyes at himself and how sappy he was about to be. "I love you boys, Sam. Ain't a damn thing ever gonna change that. And you two got so little that's truly good in your lives, I sure as hell ain't faultin' ya for havin' a bit of happiness wherever you find it."

Sam sniffed and leaned his head back against the wall of the hotel. "Thank you, Bobby."

"Sam, I need you to do somethin' for me right now." Bobby leaned against the bookshelf and looked over at his desk and a picture of his boys there. He smiled. "I need you to go find your brother right now and tell him, alright? I mean tell him everything about your spook and the cambion, but tell him this too, ok? You need Dean right now." And Bobby knew he did. He could hear how upset Sam was, no doubt thanks to the creature screwing with his head and he was worried about the boy being alone just then. "And he needs to know about this. Go find your brother and tell him I said it's alright. And... and that there ain't a damn thing wrong with two grown men who love each other the way you two do. You hear me?"

Sam nodded and gave a watery smile, though Bobby couldn't see it. "Yeah, Bobby."

"Good. Go on now, and you boys call me if you need somethin'. I'll be here." It was Bobby's way of saying nothing would change, and it was the best he could give them just then.

"Ok, Bobby." Sam closed the phone and buried his face in his hands. It took him a few minutes to collect himself enough to get to his feet. He looked around the parking lot and laughed a little miserably. "Still didn't get coffee." He didn't want it anymore, really, not with the way his stomach was churning. He turned and headed back around the building to their room in a bit of a daze. He reached their room and opened the door. He dimly registered Steve and Joe sitting at the table, Steve taping a bandage over his partner's chest, and Dean sitting beside them and the tracks of what could only be tears on Joe's face.

"Sammy?" Dean's heart leaped into his throat. His little brother had been crying, and if Dean had to pick a description for the expression on Sam's face just then, it would have been shell-shocked. He was up and across the room without thinking about it. "Hey, come on. Come here. Sit down, ok?" He took Sam's arms and felt a fine tremble running through his body as he nudge Sam to sit on the side of the nearest bed. Dean knelt in front of him and took his face in his hands while Sam just stared. "Dude, you're starting to freak me out here. What is it?"

"What's happened?" Steve squeezed Joe's neck for a moment. He hadn't taken the news of the woman's death any better than Dean said Sam had. "Be right back." He went to get a better look at Sam. "Is he hurt?"

"I don't know." Dean shook his head. He looked down and saw Sam was clutching his phone in his hand.

"Bobby," Sam said softly.

Dean nodded. "Ok, you called Bobby." He pried Sam's fingers open and rescued his phone, tossing it up on the nightstand. "What'd he say?" He took Sam's hands in both of his and ran his thumbs in circles over the backs of his hands, trying to give Sam something else to focus on. "Sam, talk to me, kiddo. What did Bobby say?" A horrible thought crossed Dean's mind at the stricken look at Sam's face. "Sam, is Bobby okay? He's not..." He couldn't bring himself to finish that particular thought."

The sudden fear in his brother's voice registered at last, and Sam finally managed to make his eyes meet Dean's. "He's okay." He sounded confused by the question. "He said... he still loves us."

"Huh?" Dean scowled. "Dude, why the hell would Bobby say something like that? Was he drunk? It's a little early in the morning to be hittin' the hunter's helper."

"He knows." Sam took a deep, shuddering breath and it finally felt real. "Dean, he... he knows. He knew, about... about us, and he... he doesn't hate us." His voice cracked and broke at the end with emotion while Dean's face went pale in shock.

Dean felt the bottom fall out of his world. The whole room seemed to spin and he sat back on the floor with a thump. "He..."

"Oh, wow." Steve breathed it out. He knew how hard it could throw someone to come out to a family member as gay, and had trouble imagining just how much harder it would be if you were brothers on top of that. He sat on the bed next to Sam, shoulder to shoulder to offer him support if he wanted it. "How long has Bobby known you two?"

Sam shook his head a little as the question registered and watched his brother. "Since I was two. He..." Sam smiled a little; fondly. "He pretty much raised us. Dad taught us how to kill things. Bobby..." he sniffed again and wiped a hand over his face. "He let us be kids." He smiled again. "He played football with us. Let us watch crappy movies. He... he gave us a place to call home."

"Bobby knows," Dean whispered it and stared at his brother's knees while he tried to process that. His deepest fear since starting the relationship with his brother, even more than their dad finding out, had been Bobby finding out and hating them for it. Dean hadn't been sure he would have survived the grumpy old hunter cutting them out of his life. He felt the sting of tears in his own eyes and for a moment, didn't give a damn as they fell.

Sam slipped off the bed to the floor and wrapped himself around Dean. He held him tight, burying his face in his brother's neck and felt Dean's shaking arms slowly come up and hold him back. "He said he doesn't care. He said... he said there's nothing wrong with us."

Dean heard Sam's voice shaking and felt tears against his neck. He pulled Sam in tighter and let his world realign. Bobby knew about them and didn't hate them; had even told Sam that he loved them. He drew a deep breath. "It's ok, Sammy. We're ok," he said hoarsely and rubbed a hand up and down Sam's back to soothe him and what he knew were emotions thrown out of control by the damn creature. "Breathe, buddy. It's alright."

Sam nodded into Dean's neck but didn't answer. He couldn't just then and tightened his hands into fists in the back of his brother's shirt.

Dean looked up when he felt a hand slide over his head and met Joe's damp eyes. He managed a small smile. "Sorry we're droppin' this little chick flick on you guys."

Steve laughed and looked over at Joe who was wiping tears from his own face, but smiling. He looked back at Dean. "It's not every day your father figure tells you he knows about you and doesn't care. It's a big deal, Dean. We get that."

"I think I really like this Bobby of yours," Joe said gruffly and wiped off his face. He smiled and stood, grabbing his shirt from the table. "I'll go grab the coffee."

Steve frowned and shook his head. "I don't want you going out there. That thing was here."

Sam sniffed back his tears, disgusted with his lack of control in spite of the reason and loosened his grip on Dean enough to look over at them. "He's safe in the daylight. It can't come out while the sun's out."

Dean eased Sam further away from him and looked at him. He was relieved to see the tears had stopped and Sam seemed to be steadying as he watched. "Bobby knows what it is?"

"Uh, yeah." Sam ducked his head, a little ashamed, and disentangled himself from Dean so he could could stand. "Sorry." He waved a hand to mean for climbing all over Dean, but his big brother just grinned at him and held out a hand. Sam pulled him up and went to get his laptop bag. "So, get this. Bobby says it's a cambion. They're the offspring of a succubus and an incubus." He reddened a little. "He also said the reason it's focused on me and Joe is probably because we're uh, subs. And you're so dominant."

"Just tell me how we kill it," Dean said firmly. He scrubbed his hands over his face and gave Steve a nod to say he was alright when the man brushed his fingers down his arm.

Sam booted up his laptop and sat at the table. "Well, he's not really sure, but daylight sounds like our best bet. He also found your ghost."

"Ok, coffee can wait." Dean pulled over a chair and sat next to his brother. "Spill it."

Sam ran a hand through his hair, flushing slightly at having spent so much time letting himself fall to pieces when they had more important things to worry about. He startled when Dean's hand landed on his neck. "Huh?"

"Hey, knock it off." Dean could easily read the emotions passing over his little brother's face and didn't like a one of them. "You didn't do anything wrong. What Bobby said, it threw me too, man."

"You know." Steve scratched at his jaw and the stubble there, looking between Sam and Joe before settling on Dean. "The way they're reacting, it's almost like they're stuck in a permanent state of sub drop. It's not healthy."

"No shit." Sam sighed and shook himself. "Also, it's annoying as hell. It's like male PMS or something." He ignored Dean's snicker in his ear and was ready to hit him if he made a comment.

"Yeah, it is," Joe agreed quickly and dropped to sit on the side of the bed. "It's like the floor keeps moving under my feet and I can't find my balance."

Sam nodded and smiled at him for such an effective metaphor. "We're going to have to do some work to get rid of this ghost." He filled them in on everything Bobby had told him before his little breakdown, both about the ghost and the cambion.

"Well, how the hell are we supposed to find this... this Camembert anyway? Hell of a lot of dark places to hide in the daytime." Dean groaned and stretched over the back of his chair.

"Cambion, jackass," Sam chuckled and slapped a hand into Dean's stomach. "Well, it's probably somewhere close by, since it keeps coming after us."

"It eats sexual energy." Dean snorted. "We've been givin' off plenty of that."

Sam frowned and looked at him. "Maybe that's how we can lure it out. Bobby said we probably can't kill it at night, but maybe we can trap it until the sun comes up if we give it something to come out after."

"No way," Dean said quickly. "You are not gonna be bait for this thing! It's already feeding off you!"

"It's followed us every time we've had sex, Dean," Sam replied bluntly and shrugged. "What if it's..." he hesitated to say anything with Steve and Joe in the room and give himself away but he had to trust that they wouldn't judge him for this one more thing. "What if the cambion is drawn to me because I'm, you know, different." Sam held up a hand when Dean opened his mouth to argue. "Missouri said it makes me more noticeable to some things, like spirits. I'm like a light bulb in a dark room."

"Different how?" Steve asked, though he suddenly thought maybe he knew as he recalled their conversation back at the house.

Sam looked at Dean and raised a brow. His brother rolled his eyes and gave him a shrug to say 'your call'. Sam blew out a breath. Might as well drop the last shoe still in the closet. "I'm psychic." He said it bluntly and refused to meet either Steve or Joe's eyes.

"He sees shit that's gonna happen sometimes." Dean leaned forward, subconsciously putting himself between his brother and the guys. "He's not a freak."

"Huh." Joe looked at Sam for a moment and then shrugged. "Actually, that doesn't really surprise me."

"Yeah, me either." Steve gave both men a lopsided smile. "The way you two communicate without even having to speak sometimes? Yeah, it's not a stretch of the imagination."

"Now, put your hackles down, Dean." Steve chuckled.

Dean sat back and relaxed and gave an embarrassed smile. "Have I mentioned before that you guys are awesome?"

Sam felt tension bleed out of his spine with the easy way Steve and Joe accepted the new information about him and slumped in his chair. He looked over at Dean and waited for his brother's eyes to meet his. "You know I'm right."

"Why does it have to be Sam?" Joe asked suddenly. "I mean, Steve and I could..."

"No way in hell," Dean cut him off. He watched Joe's face pale even as he spoke the offer. He knew Joe would put himself out there as bait even though he was terrified of the creature, that he would do it if they asked. Dean noted the relief that flowed across Steve's face and gave him a nod. "Stopping this thing is our job, not yours. We talked about this, remember?" He turned his gaze to Sam and sighed. "We're gonna make damn sure that bastard can't actually get at you before we do this. First thing's first though; we need to gank us a ghost."

Sam let out a tense breath, pleased that Dean saw reason. He smiled. "That's gonna be a little harder. We'll have to search the grounds to find where he's buried, but if we make some of those charms first, we'll be safe enough I think, while he find him."

"We should get moving then and do it in daylight. Ghost'll be weaker and the camaroon won't be a threat." Dean grinned while Sam rolled his eyes. He looked over at Steve and Joe, knowing he couldn't keep them out of this much of it at least. "Boys, we're about to go on a ghost hunt."

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-** _

Dean pulled up to the gates in front of the big house and idled in front of it. They were open wide, just as they'd left them the night before. It was barely noon and the sun shone high in the sky. Dean sighed and eased the car forward. "I'm gonna regret not leavin' her outside this damn gate, I know it."

Sam chuckled. "No, you won't. We're going to find David Brantley's body and send him on and the car will be fine."

"Yeah, and when exactly does a job ever go that smoothly for us?" Dean argued.

"You call this smooth?" Sam asked incredulously.

Steve and Joe chuckled in the back seat. "They sound like us right before we premier a new act," Joe said with a chuckle.

Steve laughed and nodded. "All nerves and temper, waiting for the other shoe to drop."

Dean ignored the laughter and pulled up in front of the house. He turned off the car and then twisted in the seat to look at them. "No one goes in the house. Period. It's gonna be dangerous enough out here in the sun, but in there, you'd be in his territory; and, daylight or not, he could still clean your clocks. You stay with us."

"You have your charms?" Sam asked, glad they had kept a supply of all the ingredients needed to make the things. He and Dean each had one tucked into their pockets.

"What do these smelly things do again?" Joe asked as he pulled his out from under his shirt.

Sam smirked. "They'll keep the ghost from screwing with you. Well, within a roughly eight-foot radius anyway."

Steve watched the look that passed between the brothers and frowned. "I'm guessing there's a story there."

"Well, we're Winchesters. How else we're we gonna find out the range on these things?" Dean asked with a snort and opened his door, remembering pulling Sam from a kitchen so hot he could barely breathe because the room had been too long to protect him from the ghost blocking the doors from the outside. "The hard way."

"Keep your eyes open." Sam opened his own door and climbed out. He looked at both men as they slid out beside him. "The charms will keep the ghost from getting near you, but that doesn't mean he can't throw something at you from a distance."

"Comforting," Steve dead-panned and patted the lump of the charm under his own shirt. In spite of that, it was actually comforting. It had been fascinating to watch Sam and Dean both crafting the little things, using a recipe from memory and working in tandem, experts exercising tools of their trade the way a cop would strap on a bullet proof vest.

"Ok. Tools." Dean went around to the trunk and popped it open. He pulled up the hidden compartment and propped that open as well. "Shovels and shotguns all around."

Sam smiled and pulled out his salt gun. He handed their spare to Joe and then a shovel to Steve. "No way Joe's doing any digging with those chest wounds."

Joe snickered. "Nice. I like this plan."

Steve rolled his eyes. "You're washing my back later."

Joe waggled his brows suggestively. "If that's your idea of a punishment, I gotta say, man... you're slipping." Steve's jaw dropped open and then he laughed. He leaned the shovel against the side of the car and advanced on Joe slowly. Joe grinned and held up his free hand. "You know how much I like egging you on."

"Oh, I know." Steve flicked a glance at the brothers. "Excuse us for a minute."

Dean chuckled and gave them his back and the illusion of privacy. "Somebody's ass is gettin' tanned when this all over."

"Hope it's mine," Sam said into Dean's ear and enjoyed the shiver his brother gave him. He reached a hand up and flicked his index finger against one of the hooks at the corner of the trunk lid, the hooks Dean had installed specifically for his padded cuffs.

Dean growled under his breath, turned and pushed Sam against the open trunk. He leaned in and bit at the bend of Sam's neck until his brother gasped and thrust his hips into him. He laughed against his brother's skin and laved his tongue over the fresh red mark. "I think that can be arranged."

Sam moaned softly, running his hands up his brother's back to hold onto his shoulders. He opened his eyes and caught sight of Steve. He was holding Joe pressed to him with one arm and had the hand of the other fisted in Joe's long, brown hair, yanking his head back while he gnawed at the cut of his jaw. "Fuck."

"Later." Dean forced himself away from his brother with an effort. He took a step back and frowned. Dean turned and looked at Joe and Steve and his frown deepened. "The hell are we doing?"

"What?" Sam asked while he reached out and tugged at the buckle of Dean's belt hungrily.

Dean shook his head and caught Sam's hand. He pushed it back and then looked around them, settling on the house. "Sam, knock it off and think." He caught Sam's face in his other hand and made him look at him. "That thing, the cambion, it gets into your head and it feeds on sex. Yeah?"

Sam nodded. "Sexual energy, yes."

"And it has to hibernate somewhere dark during the day. It would stand to reason, since the thing needs the naughty to feed that it's probably pretty good about makin' people wanna get their freak on." Dean raised his brows at his brother, silently urging Sam's geek brain to play catch up.

"Incubus and succubus genes." Sam began to frown as the possibilities played in his head. "Both of those creatures, they get inside people's head and amp up sexual desires." His eyes went wide when he heard Joe moan. "It's here, isn't it?" He spun to stare at the house.

"Cellar," Dean said surely. "I'd bet fucking money on it. That's where it's hiding out." He shook his head and took another step back from his brother, wiping his now sweating palms on his jeans. "And it's why we can't keep our goddamn hands off each other."

"Holy shit." Sam turned back around and looked at Dean, a little horrified. Like Dean, he moved a few more steps away from his brother and shook himself. "We need to..."

"We need to gank a ghost and bait the fuckin' lust monster that's been hiding under our damn noses all this time without ending up in a damn orgy on the lawn. Yeah. Hey, guys!" Dean shouted and raked his hand through his hair.

He handed Sam the shotgun his brother had dropped without even realizing he'd done it. Yeah, this was definitely not good. Dean closed the trunk and watched the two men break apart from their increasingly naughty embrace with twin gasps. Joe had all but climbed Steve, and he stumbled a step before catching himself on Steve's arm. "We got a problem. Get over here." He took his bag from the trunk, shoved salt and lighter fluid into it along with a book of matches, and pulled it over his shoulder.

"Margaret Thatcher naked on a cold day," Sam said with a hesitant laugh.

"I don't think the Austin Powers mantra is gonna save us here." Dean laughed uncomfortably. He grabbed Steve's arm when they neared and pulled him purposefully a few feet away from Joe. "Here's the deal. The cambion's here, probably in the cellar. And it's screwin' with all of us."

"Anybody else notice the fact we can't seem to keep our hands off each other?" Sam raised a brow and waved a hand at the two of them. "Even under the circumstances?"

"It's creature-enhancing our sex drives or something." Dean rolled his eyes and had to force himself not to reach out and slap Sam's ass when his brother walked next to him to grab the shovel Steve had leaned against the car. "Christ, ok. No one touches anybody else unless absolutely neccesary or we're gonna get pasted by a second-rate Casper."

Steve frowned and looked over at Joe, and it struck him then what they'd been doing while they were literally in mortal danger just standing in front of the house. The spirit of a dead man had already tried to kill them all, and they were making out like horny teenagers without a care in the world. "Wow. That is some potent... what? Magic?"

"Something like that." Sam handed Steve the shovel with a shrug.

"Should find a way to bottle that. Our club would be fucking-room-only every night of the week," Steve said with a shameless grin.

Joe threw his head back and laughed along with Dean. He caught his breath and shook his head. "You know, most of the time you come off a little yuppy, but then you say shit like that and just... I love you."

Steve's grin intensified and he took a step toward Joe before Sam caught hold of him and pulled him back. "Nope," Sam said with a soft chuckle. "Ok, doms on one side, subs on the other." He shrugged when all four men looked at him. "It's the combination least likely to result in us tearing each other's clothes off and ending up dead."

Dean snorted and heft his own shotgun and a shovel. "When he's right... come on, Steve."

"So how are we going to find this burial site?" Steve asked with a last look at his lover before he followed Dean's long-legged stride out onto the lawn.

Dean pulled his EMF meter out of his pocket and flicked it on. "Should act kind of like a spiritual metal detector." He grinned. "It should register old Dave's spirit down in his grave."

Sam took out his own EMF and turned it on. "We'll head around the other side." He smiled at the glare Dean sent him and tilted his head for Joe to follow.

"Dean doesn't look happy," Joe observed, but then, neither did Steve if the frown on his face was anything to go by.

"He doesn't want to split up, but it would take too damn long to search all the grounds around the house and still have enough time left to dig it up and take care of the ghost before the sun sets and the cambion can come after us for real. Or worse, we end up fighting them both at once, and that would be very, very bad." Sam shivered and held his EMF meter low in front of him, waving it back and forth slowly as they moved. He angled toward the wall rather than the house.

"You got an idea where this guy was buried?" Joe shifted his grip on the shotgun nervously. He knew the bright sunlight shining down on them was protecting them from the creature, from a direct attack at least, but the spirit could still hurt them apparently.

"Well, I'm guessing the butler buried the guy near the wall." Sam shrugged and smirked. "If I were to make an educated guess, which I am, I'd say he picked one of the back corners where it's a little overgrown with trees and hard to see from the house."

"Huh. Guess that would make a decent place to hide a body." Joe chuckled and shook his head. "And you guys do this for a living."

"Well, it's not much of a living. We mostly live off hustling pool and cards and credit card fraud." Sam smiled at the surprised look on Joe's face. "There aren't any paychecks for protecting people from the things we protect them from."

"Wow. I didn't even think of that." Joe tried to picture living that way; nomadic, always on the move, with a car the only constant in your life and found he couldn't do it. It left him a little in awe of the brothers and a little sad for how little recognition they got for risking their lives, if they got any at all. "You guys are kind of like superheroes."

Sam was surprised into a laugh and looked over at him. "How do you figure?"

"Secret identities, savin' the world one damsel in distress at a time." He put a hand to his own chest and grinned.

"Dean thinks he's Batman." Sam chuckled and nodded when Joe laughed. "Ask him about his Batman underoos sometime."

"Oh, oh man." Joe laughed hard and wiped at his eyes. "I just pictured that."

"Yep. He was a class act as a kid." Sam's stride hitched when the meter gave a low whine. He looked around and saw they were near the back right corner of the property. Sam looked out to his left and saw Dean and Steve emerge in the distance from the other side of the house. He smiled and waved a hand in the air before moving forward again, this time with purpose. "We're close."

Joe followed him and saw Steve and Dean heading toward them at a jog across the expansive lawn. "How close?"

Sam angled for the copse of tall lilac trees crowding the corner and the whine of the meter grew in pitch. "Real close." He turned around to yell for his brother and his eyes went wide in alarm. "Dean! Look out!" The upper windows of the house had been opened. Curtains billowed out into the sunlight and as Sam watched, pieces of furniture and even a lamp flew out of them and down toward the men below.

"Steve!" Joe startled into a run and slid, nearly going down when Sam grabbed hold and stopped him.

"No!" Sam forced Joe to wait and watched while his brother and Steve dodged the projectiles and were finally clear of the house. He caught his brother when Dean got close enough and looked for any sign that he had been injured. "Are you ok?"

"Yeah. Yeah, we're good." Dean looked back at the debris littered over the lawn and shook his head. "Don't think Dave wants us to find his body."

"I thought those charm things were supposed to protect us!" Joe shouted, his fear for Steve overcoming his rational mind. He nearly threw off the hand Steve put on his shoulder and then jerked around to wrap his arms around the man desperately instead. "Jesus."

"We're as protected as we can get," Sam reassured him. "Remember, they only have a range of about eight feet. Beyond that..."

"Beyond that and a ghost can toss twenty pound lamps out a window at our heads. I'm fine, baby. I'm ok." Steve ducked his head along Joe's and kissed his neck. "Calm down. I'm alright. See?"

Sam nudged them apart. "He's fine. You can grope later."

Dean held his EMF meter out next to Sam's and smiled at the matching, electronic whines that were near constant. "Should have known you'd figure out where the asshole was buried first."

Sam smiled, feeling his racing heart slowly start to calm. "Maybe you'll listen to me more often."

Dean snorted and ran a hand up his brother's ribs, under his shirt so he shivered. "Like that's gonna happen."

"Hmm." Sam knew he should be doing something but the feel of Dean's rough fingers dragging over the skin of his side took away all thought of anything else.

"Nope." Steve grabbed hold of Sam's arm and yanked him away from his brother, shoving him into Joe. He took hold of Dean then and moved them both away from the others.

"Holy shit." Dean stared at his equally shocked brother and then gave a nervous laugh. "Ok, that was almost bad. Let's, uh... ghost."

"Right." Sam cleared his throat and had to adjust himself in his jeans before he could walk properly. "Come on, you." He grabbed Joe's elbow as he went past and pulled him along, staying several feet away from both their lovers. "Safe bet the cambion knows we're out here." He felt Joe shiver under his hand and tightened his grip in an offer of comfort. "We're safe while the sun's up. Don't worry. You two are going to be long gone from here by the time the sun goes down."

Dean ducked under the low hanging branches and then went to his knees as the meter in his hand hit a fever pitch. He crawled a few feet out from the trees and grinned as the needle buried itself. "Gotcha." He shivered in the shade provided by the trees and stood. He tucked the meter in his pocket and gave a look to Sam in a silent order to keep his on. "Ok. Let's do this."

"Here, Joe." Sam moved him a little to the right so Joe's back was to the wall and smiled. "If David's ghost shows up, shoot. Just try not to hit anyone. Aim above their heads if you have to."

"Got it." Joe propped the shotgun comfortably in his hands and gave Steve a nod. "I get to watch you all dig and get all sweaty. Not a bad gig."

Steve laughed and dug his shovel into the dirt. "So paddling his ass later."

Dean grinned and set his shotgun aside in easy reach, then shrugged off the bag of supplies and dropped that next to it. He didn't have to look to know Sam was watching his back. "Hopin' he ain't too deep."

"At least we don't have to worry about the cops showing up to bust us," Sam offered and nodded when Steve sent him a glance. "We do most of our grave digging in the middle of the night. The police get a little tetchy about us desecrating graves."

"Grave robbers." Dean rolled his eyes and shed his jacket before bending back to his task. "That's actually on my record. Never robbed a grave in my life. You know what kind of shit you can get into stealing crap from the dead? No way."

Sam laughed. He'd backed far enough away from the grave for his meter to not be screaming, and it whined slightly higher for a moment. He tensed, watching the air all around them for any sign of the spirit, but, so far, it was absent. "He knows what we're doing."

"Yeah, well..." Dean grunted and hefted another shovel full of dirt to the side. "It's broad daylight. Should keep his happy ass in check."

"Hopefully." Sam did a slow turn around the little clearing between the trees and the walls and felt a little trapped there. A corner was rarely a safe place to be with something hungry chasing after you. He could feel tension crawling up and down his spine the longer they stood there. The minutes crept by; ten and then twenty. Each time the EMF in his pocket whined, they all stopped and tensed, waiting but the spirit did nothing else to accost them.

"My teeth itch," Joe said suddenly. "I'm so damn nervous, my teeth are itching. I wish he'd do something already. This is like Chinese water torture!"

Dean laughed aloud at that and leaned back, resting on the handle of his shovel to wipe the sweat out of his eyes. "You wanna swap, Sammy?"

"No." Sam laughed but he nodded. "Pass me the shovel." He resisted the urge to actually go to his brother and help him out of the four-foot-deep hole he and Steve had managed to dig. It was far too tempting to run his fingers over all the sweat-damp skin Dean was showing, the way his brother's t-shirt was stuck to his chest and stomach and rucked up just enough to show a little sliver of glistening skin above his belt. He licked his lips.

"Sam. Dude."

Sam jerked his head up from Dean. "Huh?" He looked over and found Steve grinning at him, and he realized he'd been standing there just staring at his brother. "Uh, sorry."

Dean grinned and tossed the shovel up before he climbed out on his own. He grabbed his shotgun and moved wide around his brother while Sam hopped down. "For the record, he does that without the aid of a creature screwin' with his head. I'm just that hot."

"And the moment is broken," Sam said and chuckled at his ridiculous brother.

Steve shook his head fondly and smiled at Sam as they started again. "So, how deep are the bodies you dig up usually? And I can't believe I just seriously asked someone that question."

"Average depth for a cemetery." Sam shrugged and tossed up a load of dirt. "About six feet or so. We can usually get down that deep in about an hour if we hustle." He bumped back into Steve in the close quarters they were working and hesitated. Fortunately, he only felt a faint tug of out-of-place lust brush through him. Whatever the effect was, it seemed to be specifically targeting the two halves of each couple.

Dean watched for a moment, the same thought having crossed his mind, and felt an irrational surge of possessiveness spiking out of control, like he would jump into the hole and rip Steve apart if he dared to touch Sam just then. Fortunately, it didn't seem to be an issue. He moved over and nodded to Joe. "How you doin'?"

Joe gave a stiff shrug and a small smile. "Nervous."

"Good." Dean reached across and patted his shoulder. "You should be. Nervous keeps you alert."

The blade of Sam's shovel sank into the dirt and thunked into something hard. "I think we found him." He stopped shoveling and started using the blade to scrap the dirt sideways. Steve quickly caught on and together they cleared enough to find the top of a wooden box, long stained black by the soil.

"Yahtzee." Dean grinned. He went to the grave and knelt, pulling open the bag. "Hurry up and get it open. This is usually the part where they get really pissed."

Sam worked quickly with Steve, clearing the top of the coffin. He caught the smell of rotten pine and wrinkled his nose. "Hundred years old; at least he won't be juicy."

"Ugh, ok, ew." Steve groaned and grimaced in disgust. "Does that really happen to you guys? Digging up someone... fresh?"

"Not often." Sam smiled. "And yeah, it's not pleasant. Ok, go ahead and climb out. I need the space to crack this open."

Dean held out a hand and grabbed Steve's when he reached up. He pulled him out of the shallow grave and handed him Sam's shotgun. "Point and shoot. Try not to hit me." He smirked while Steve rolled his eyes and bent back down. "You get it?"

"Yeah." Sam reared back and slammed the point of the shovel blade into the wood. It cracked easily with a wet crunch. He attacked it again and again and finally tossed the shovel up to Dean. He knelt down and pulled a broken piece of wood away and was reward with the image of a skull, yellowed to almost brown with age.

The meter in Dean's pocket began to whine more loudly and quickly climbed to a scream. "Hurry up, Sam. No way he doesn't take a shot at us."

"How bad can it be if he's so weak in the daytime?" Joe asked worriedly.

"We have the charms so he can't do anything directly, remember?" Sam smiled up from inside the grave and then bent back to his work. "But you saw what he did... come on, dammit... at the house." He yanked up another broken board and tried to clear enough space to salt the bones.

"Fantastic." Joe planted his back more firmly against the wall and aimed his shotgun out at the trees. He shook his head when Steve started heading for him. "Nope. Don't come over here or we're gonna get caught with our pants down." He smirked. "Literally. You're all sweaty and hot and I really wanna climb you right now."

Steve laughed at that and blew out a breath. "Feeling's mutual. Ok." He moved back again to the other side of the grave, keeping watch over Sam.

"Got it." Sam yanked the last board free and hopped up. He swung his legs out and rolled to his feet.

Dean took the salt and poured it out over the bones, giving it a good shake to make sure he covered them. The EMF meters whined more strongly and they all startled, hearing the sound of slamming doors coming from the house. Dean smiled. "Think he's pissed he can't get at us."

"Good." Sam nodded to Steve and took his shotgun before walking to the lilac trees and ducking under them for a look out. "Too bad we can't sic him on the cambion instead. That would be nice." He heard the sound of shattering glass from somewhere in the house and cringed. "Uh, think you guys are gonna need a few new windows."

Dean squirted lighter fluid down over the bones, dropped it in the bag and grabbed the book of matches. "Rest in peace, asshole," he said happily and the lit the book before tossing it down into the shallow grave. Flames burst to life, roaring up as Dean backed away a step. From the house, there was the sound of an enraged scream and then silence.

Sam smiled broadly and stood back up, looking over at Steve and Joe. "No more ghost problems for you."

"This house..." Dean dusted off his jacket and struck a pose. "... is clean." He paused. "Well, except for the monster in the basement."

Steve and Joe stared between the two of them and started laughing in sheer relief. "I can't believe..." Steve gasped for breath and waved a hand. "... you just quoted Poltergeist and it.. it's actually real. Holy crap."

Sam came back around the grave and picked up the bag, shoving the salt and lighter fluid back inside. He smiled at the two men as they laughed and looked over at his brother. "You wanna fill it back in while they recover?"

Dean snorted and picked up the shovel. "Nah. It can burn itself out. We'll fill it in later, after we deal with our other little problem."

That thought sobered Sam and he nodded. He looked at his watch and back to his brother. "We've got about six hours until dusk to figure out some way of catching this thing." He shrugged. "We could go into the house now and find it, drag it out into the sun."

Dean shook his head. "No way. If it is in the cellar, it's a damn maze down there. We need the advantage. Especially with the way this thing can make us forget what the hell we're doing and want to bump uglies."

"Dean. Ever the romantic." Joe chuckled and stepped away from Steve with difficulty. There was still a danger in the area he knew, and he didn't want to risk his lover being hurt because he couldn't control himself. "What now?"

"We get you two back to the motel." Dean gave a nudge past him toward his brother so he wouldn't be tempted to roll Sam into the grass and molest him right there, which, given his brother's sweaty state was a real concern for him and his dick that had no concept of danger, clearly. "Then we'll figure out a plan of attack and Sam and I will come back and nail this thing. Alone," he added sternly. "Ghosts are easy, most of the time. But this thing? This is big league and way too dangerous for you to be involved."

"We'll get you separate rooms at the hotel." Sam smiled apologetically when they both looked ready to argue. "You really think you can stay in a room alone and keep your hands off each other?" He waited until they both shook their heads. "It's been feeding off us, maybe all of us, but definitely off me and Joe. For all we know, it can do that from a distance. We don't need to give it any more than we have to in order to lure it out so, separate rooms until we gank it."

"Sorry, boys." Dean really was sorry, then he grinned and shared a conspiratorial look with Steve. "But don't worry, we'll make up for it later."

Sam looked between both men and met Joe's curious gaze. "Either we're in trouble or we're really going to enjoy ourselves."

Joe snorted. "Hopefully, a little of both."

"Come on. Let's get moving. We're burning daylight." Dean let Joe and Sam take the lead and walked beside Steve. "We really need to kill this thing 'cause not touchin' Sam is drivin' me up a damn wall."

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_To Be Continued..._


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: WARNINGS for this chapter: graphic descriptions of non-con/rape
> 
> Graphic depictions within. Beta'd by the always awesome JaniceC678
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own 'em but if I did, they'd never get dressed.
> 
> ~Reviews are love~

 

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_"We've got about six hours until dusk to figure out some way of catching this thing." Sam shrugged. "We could go into the house now and find it, drag it out into the sun."_

_Dean shook his head. "No way. If it is in the cellar, it's a damn maze down there. We need the advantage. Especially with the way this thing can make us forget what the hell we're doing and want to bump uglies."_

_"Dean. Ever the romantic." Joe chuckled and stepped away from Steve with difficulty. There was still a danger in the area he knew and he didn't want to risk his lover being hurt because he couldn't control himself. "What now?"_

_"We get you two back to the motel." Dean gave a nudge past him toward his brother so he wouldn't be tempted to roll Sam into the grass and molest him right there, which, given his brother's sweaty state was a real concern for him and his dick that had no concept of danger; clearly. "Then we'll figure out a plan of attack and Sam and I will come back and nail this thing. Alone," he hadded sternly. "Ghosts are easy, most of the time. But this thing? This is big league and way too dangerous for you to be involved."_

_"We'll get you seperate rooms at the hotel." Sam smiled apologetically when they both looked ready to argue. "You really think you can stay in a room alone and keep your hands off each other?" He waited until they both shook their heads. "It's been feeding off us, maybe all of us, but definitely off me and Joe. For all we know, it can do that from a distance. We don't need to give it any more than we have to in order to lure it out so, separate rooms until we gank it."_

_"Sorry, boys." Dean really was sorry, then he grinned and shared a conspiratorial look with Steve. "But don't worry, we'll make up for it later."_

_Sam looked between both men and met Joe's curious gaze. "Either we're in trouble or we're really going to enjoy ourselves."_

_Joe snorted. "Hopefully, a little of both."_

_"Come on. Let's get moving. We're burning daylight." Dean let Joe and Sam take the lead and walked beside Steve. "We really need to kill this thing 'cause not touchin' Sam is drivin' me up a damn wall."_

**Chapter 6**

Dean idled the car at a stoplight and shivered, feeling Sam's warm breath on the back of his neck from the back seat. "Sam, knock it off."

"Not doing anything," Sam muttered and licked along his brother's neck above the collar of his jacket. He closed his eyes, savoring the flavor of salty skin on his tongue.

"Fuck," Dean breathed and closed his own eyes. "Uh, Steve? Could you... you know... get him off me? 'Cause I don't have the willpower."

"I, uh," Steve blew out a breath and caught the hand Joe had snuck over his shoulder just as his lover's talented fingers found a nipple and rolled it. "Shit."

"It's daylight," Sam slid one arm around the side of the seat by the door and got his hand in Dean's lap. He pushed his fingers under the waist of his brother's jeans and brushed the top of Dean's already hard cock. "Cambion can't come after us."

"Could still... fuck, yeah, like that." Dean groaned when Sam's fingers curled around his dick. "Uh, still feed from you. We don't know."

"Dammit." Steve grabbed Joe when he leaned over the seat to kiss him and dragged the man into the front seat and onto his lap. "Come're."

"Hell, yes." Joe groaned happily and wrapped his arms around Steve's neck while he kissed him soundly.

Dean snarled, half in frustration and half in lust. His head dropped back for a moment when Joe's foot brushed across his lap and his cock. "Fuck." He put the car in the gear, as the light had long gone green, and pulled away quickly as it flashed red again. He had trouble focusing on the road with Sam squeezing him rhythmically in his jeans and his brother's hot breath at his throat, teeth scraping and nipping at the sensitive skin behind his ear. "Fuck, fuck! Just let me..." He found a rundown building and swerved the Impala behind it, getting as out of sight as he could manage. He parked, turned off the engine and was over the back seat in a tangle of limbs until he was pressing Sam into the door.

"Yes. Yes. Yes." Sam moaned and wrapped his legs around Dean's waist, letting his big brother shove him where he wanted him. He gasped when Dean rocked their hips together and rubbed their cocks against each other through the denim. "Need to come," Sam panted.

"Yeah. Yeah." Dean knew it was wrong, that they shouldn't be doing this, but he couldn't stop himself, definitely not with Steve and Joe in the front seat doing their own horny teenager impressions and Joe's whimpers filling the enclosed space, egging Dean on. Dean curled a hand around Sam's hip and pulled him tighter as he thrust and rolled. The friction was almost too much, but he couldn't stop.

Sam opened his eyes while Dean sucked a dark mark into his throat and saw Joe straddling Steve in the front seat, rising up and down as he chased his orgasm. "Oh, fuck. So hot." His eyes slammed closed with a particularly rough roll of Dean's hips, and he threw his head back on a shout as his orgasm slammed into him. "Dean!"

"Shit, Sam!" Dean yelled into his brother's neck as his release found him. They thrust wildly against each other for several minutes until finally they collapsed together against the door, breathing heavily.

Sam began to chuckle softly and shifted a little. "That's uncomfortable."

"Hmm, what?" Dean had yet to lift his head from Sam's throat and debated falling asleep there.

"Come in my pants." Sam snorted and gave his brother's shoulder a push. "You're heavy."

"So, that happened," Joe commented sleepily from the front seat. He looked over and met Sam's eyes with a grin. "Weren't we not supposed to do that?"

"Uh, yeah. I... dammit." Sam shook his head and blushed slightly. "I just couldn't stop myself."

Dean moved at last. He sat back and opened the door behind his brother, grabbing his shoulder before Sam could topple out onto the pavement. He smirked. "Keep your hands off me until we finish this shit. Jesus. You sit behind Steve."

Steve laughed and caught his breath. He slapped Joe's backside and ran a hand through his hair. "Get that ass back over the seat and stay on your side of the car."

Joe chuckled and did as he was told, climbing back over the seat. He thumped down on Sam's legs as Dean got out. "Lust monster. I'm kinda not hating that right now."

Sam rolled his eyes fondly and squeezed around Joe, switching places while Dean got back behind the wheel. "Hopefully, that will keep us from jumping each other again for a little while."

Steve ran a finger through the fogged up window beside him with a grin. "Haven't done that in a while."

Dean snorted and got them moving again. "We do this at least once a week. Gettin' your freak on in the back seat of an Impala's an art form with the sasquatch back there."

"Dude!" Sam protested and reached over to slap his brother but Joe caught his arm and pulled it back.

"Nope. No touching. We already know how that ends." Joe smirked at Sam and patted his shoulder.

Dean laughed and kept his hands firmly on the wheel until they parked in front of their room. He piled out of the car with the others and looked at Sam over the roof. "How you feelin'?"

Sam considered it for a moment and shrugged. "I don't know. Normal, I guess."

"No waterworks waitin' to come out?" Dean asked and Sam flipped him off. "Just asking."

"Come on." Sam went to the room door and opened it. "We need to figure out how we're going to trap the cambion until dawn." He backed into the room, letting Steve stay between him and his brother and gave an uneasy smile. "And I've, uh... I've got an idea on that."

Dean frowned. "Why do I think I'm not gonna like this?"

Sam shrugged. "Well, it involves the Impala."

"Nope," Dean said easily. He went to his duffel and pulled out a pair of jeans and boxers and aimed a finger at Sam on his way to the bathroom. "Whatever it is. No."

"Dean, you haven't even heard it yet." Sam raised his brows, and turned a smirk to Steve and Joe when they laughed. "He's really overprotective of that car."

"I'm getting that," Steve said with a smirk.

"Don't care. You're gonna get my baby wrecked and I just put her back together." Dean went to the bathroom and aimed another glare at Sam. "I'm gonna change my pants and you can come up with something else before I get out."

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Dean glanced into the rear view mirror and shook his head. "You know this is ridiculous."

Sam was scooted hard up against the passenger door in the backseat and kept his eyes firmly out the window, and his hands under his thighs. "Well, we tried with me riding up front and look how that ended."

Dean snorted and adjusted himself in his pants. Ten minutes down the road from the hotel and Dean had been forced to pull off while Sam damn near climbed into his lap, aided by Dean trying to figure out how to get his pants down far enough to really have some fun. "Uh, yeah. You shouldn't have worn that shirt."

Sam frowned and looked down. He plucked at the black, form-fitting t-shirt under his flannel and then slowly began to smile. He let his eyes rise up to Dean's profile. "Remember the first time I wore this one?"

"That damn gay club you tricked me into going to," Dean cleared his throat and forced his eyes back to the road. "Fucked you right there on the dance floor."

Sam couldn't stop his hand from stretching across the seat to slide up behind his brother's ear and make him shiver. "Owned my ass on that dance floor."

"Fucking, just..." Dean reached up and shoved Sam's hand away. "We're gonna end up on the side of the road again. Eyes outside!"

Sam snickered and slid his hand back under his thigh. "Right. Sorry. Sorry." He shook his head and watched the streets pass as they drove. "I don't think we're going to have any problem drawing the cambion out once we get there."

"Ya' think?" Dean turned down the long road leading to the big house and sighed. "I still don't like this plan."

"It's the only one we've got." Sam shrugged. "Where else are we going to find a thousand pound cage to hold a creature?"

Dean glared out at the road. "If that thing even scratches my paint job..."

"I know. I know." Sam smiled. "I'll be riding tied to the roof for the rest of my life."

"Naked," Dean added and nodded. "Tied naked. Good luck gettin' the bugs outta your teeth."

"You have put way too much thought into this." Sam laughed and leaned back against the seat a little. "I think you should be more worried about all the salt damaging the paint job."

"Shut up." Dean shook his head. "I'm trying not to think about that." He couldn't believe Sam had actually talked him into using the Impala to trap the creature.

"We might have to redo the upholstery, but it'll hold," Sam said fervently. In truth, he wasn't happy about trapping the creature inside the car either, but he knew it was their best bet. He loved the car too. He just didn't tell his brother that; it was too much fun annoying him.

Dean sighed and turned toward the big house. "You know what my biggest problem with this plan is, right?"

"Using me for bait." Sam shrugged and tried to sound calm, though inwardly he was a little terrified at what would happen. "We already know it's focused on me, feeding. We have to use that."

"I know, dammit." Dean ground his teeth together. "Doesn't mean I have to like it!"

"We're gonna do everything we can to keep me safe." Sam finally looked over at his brother and reached across to grasp his shoulder as they pulled in to the gate. "I trust you to keep me safe, Dean."

Dean blew out a breath and hit the remote for the gate. He watched it open and turned his head to meet his brother's eyes. "I'm not lettin' that thing hurt you." In his mind, he still had visions of Joe laid out on the ground with the cambion perched on his chest, but now it was Sam he saw and it scared him.

Sam pulled his hand back from Dean with effort. He wanted to climb the front seat and kiss him breathless. As amusing as the never-ending hormones were, they were also a little disturbing, knowing that it was a creature inducing that level of lust in them... in him. The creature had its metaphorical claws into his mind, and Sam felt a little violated about the whole thing. He shivered and turned back to the window to watch as the house rose up before them.

Dean aimed off the drive and onto the grass, taking the Impala slowly and carefully around the side of the house and to the back. There weren't really any neighbors around the place to hear anything, but he didn't want to take any chances if things got noisy. They were going to have to hold the creature in the Impala all night until the sun came up, and he had no illusions that it was going to be easy. "This should be good." He parked behind the house, about twenty feet from the edge of the deck.

Sam climbed out of the car and leaned across the roof to look at the house. He smiled, taking in the structure. "You know, this place is going to be awesome once they get it finished."

Dean nodded as he got out. "I already like it," he admitted with a laugh and went to the trunk. "I like knowin' we've got our own place in there where we can be ourselves."

"Yeah." Sam smiled softly over at his brother. He started toward him and then stopped with a rueful shake of his head. "I can't decide if I want to help you unload the salt or jump your ass right now."

Dean chuckled and pulled open the trunk. He grabbed one of the bags of rock salt they'd bought earlier, before Sam had tried to climb him in the front seat, and tossed it to the grass. He wanted to ring the Impala in salt right then and would have, if he didn't think the cambion would smell the stuff and avoid the damn trap. "There has to be a better way."

"I'll only be alone with it long enough for you to circle the car." Sam pushed the back door closed and stepped away. He swallowed around the lump in his throat and wrapped his arms around his chest. His rational mind wanted to run from this, from offering himself up alone to the creature in an enclosed space, but it had to be done. He could save anyone else from being eaten by the creature if he just sucked it up and did this. He took a deep breath. He was a Winchester. This is what they did. It was worth his life if it worked, although he fervently hoped it wouldn't come to that.

"Hey." Dean threw aside the rule to stay three feet from his brother and went to him. He couldn't just ignore him when Sam was standing there staring at the Impala like it was going to bite him. "You're gonna be ok." He pulled Sam into his arms and held him tight. "I will get you outta there before it hurts you. That bitch is not gonna gut my little brother."

Sam gave a weak laugh and nodded into Dean's shoulder. "I can feel it, you know?"

"What?" Dean ran his hand up and down Sam's back comfortingly and could feel a slight tremble in his long frame.

"If I concentrate, I can feel it feeding, like... like someone tugging on a loose thread," Sam said. His voice was soft and he tightened his fists in the back of Dean's jacket. "Kind of makes me want to throw up."

"Shit." Dean held him tighter and wished he could just wrap him up and drag him away from all of it. "Why didn't you say anything?"

Sam snorted a laugh and made himself lean back, easing out of Dean's embrace before it went too far. "I didn't want to freak you out even more. And it doesn't change what we have to do here."

"Next time, you tell me this shit." Dean held on to his shoulders a moment longer and let go when he felt the urge to step closer. He went back to the trunk and pulled out the rest of the salt bags. "Got about an hour before the sun sets behind those trees."

Sam nodded and jogged up onto the deck. He went to the sliding doors and pulled them open. With luck, the cambion would take the easy way out of the house and go right for him inside the Impala. He looked inside with the late afternoon streaming around him and whistled. "That ghost made a hell of a mess in here." The pictures on the walls were smashed on the floor and every piece of furniture had been overturned and thrown around, some of it in pieces. "Hope the rest of the house doesn't look like this."

"Sammy, get away from there!" Dean called. He waved at him and watched tensely until his brother moved clear from the door and back down onto the grass. "You know that bastard's in there. Last thing I need is it grabbin' you and dragging you inside the damn house."

"The sun was at my back. I was safe," Sam assured him.

Dean glared. "Like hell. We don't even know for sure if the sun will kill it, let alone hurt it."

"Alright. Alright!" Sam raised his hands in defeat and smiled. He moved back toward the car and caught one of the ten-pound bags of salt when Dean tossed it to him.

"Stack that over there." Dean pointed to the side of the deck. He grabbed another and tossed it across when Sam dropped his load and faced him again. "Should be close enough for me to get to 'em fast once that bitch is inside the car." He scowled and picked up another big. "With you."

"Just stay calm, ok?" Sam caught the bag and smiled. "We can't both be freaking out about this."

"I'm not freakin' out," Dean snarled and tossed the last bag to his brother. He blew out a breath and scrubbed his hands through his hair, leaving it even spikier than it already had been. "I just don't like the idea of sittin' back and LETTING that evil fuck get near you!"

"Ok. Ok." Sam threw caution aside and went back to his brother. He slid his hands up around Dean's jaw and held his face. "I'm gonna be alright. Maybe I get a little banged up, but I'm gonna be fine. Look." He pointed into the trunk. "You even dug up that old bulletproof vest for me so it can't just gut me. I'm as protected as I can get, and you're gonna have my back the whole time. Ease up."

"Right. Right. Sorry." Dean leaned into Sam's hands and gave him a lopsided smile once he calmed. "Can't help it if I get a little caveman where you're concerned."

Sam snorted a laugh. "A little?"

"Shuddup." Dean leaned in and bit his brother's bottom lip, licking it between his teeth until Sam whined softly. "You like it."

"Oh, yeah." Sam surged forward and caught Dean's mouth with his own. "Really... like it..." he paused and sucked Dean's tongue into his mouth when Dean's fingers dug into the cheeks of his ass. "... a lot." He turned and tugged until he was leaning back against the trunk and wrapped his leg around Dean's hips to pull him closer so he could grind against him.

"Fuck, Sammy," Dean groaned and lifted his brother up to sit on the edge of the trunk. He shoved one hand down the back of Sam's jeans and slid his fingers between his cheeks to tease at his hole. He grinned against Sam's mouth when he moaned loudly and shuddered against him. Dean pushed a finger inside him and ate the needy cry from his brother's lips while Sam pulled at the short hair on the back of his neck.

"Dean, please."

"Fuck." Dean gasped as reality crashed back into his mind. He pulled his hands away and shoved Sam back half into the trunk as he staggered back several feet. He gave a breathless, nervous laugh while Sam stared at him in a daze. "Think we, uh... think we probably got its attention." Sam looked wrecked, with his hair sticking out in strange places, shirts rucked up in the front, and half in the trunk. All Dean wanted to do was go to him, strip him, and fuck him until he was screaming. It cost him to stay where he was.

Sam shuddered out a long breath and slumped back into the car. "Must be stronger because we're closer."

"No kidding. Holy shit." Dean ran his hands over his face and adjusted himself uncomfortably in his jeans. He looked up at Sam again and grinned. "Gonna find us another lonely road when we're done here. Been a while since I strapped you to that trunk."

"Oh, fuck, Dean. NOT helping!" Sam groaned and palmed himself through his jeans. He nearly came just thinking about it and slowly climbed back out of the trunk to stand beside it. "Guess I can use that for fantasy material once I get in the car and lure it out here."

Dean nodded and turned away. Looking at Sam in that state was not helping him to keep his distance or his hands to himself. "That thing, it's gonna be in your head even worse. You sure you can keep the plan in your head?"

Sam nodded. He moved around the car and opened the back passenger door facing the house. "Lure it in, let it get in the car with me. Give you enough time to pour a circle around the car, get out the other side and get the door closed before it gets out while you slam the door on the other side." He smiled when Dean finally looked back at him. "I got it."

"This plan sucks," Dean grumbled yet again. He went back to the trunk now that Sam wasn't standing there. He pulled out a machete, his gun, which he tucked into the back of his jeans, and a vial of holy water. He tossed that to Sam and then gave him the vest. "Get that on. We're burning daylight here now."

"Yeah." Sam pulled his jacket off and slipped the vest on instead. He slapped the velcro down and tugged at it uncomfortably. He glanced up at the sky, and the sun was only just visible above the trees now. He had minutes left. "Dean..."

"You can do this," Dean said easily. All day it had been Sam reassuring him, but now it was his turn. Sam needed him to be calm and he smiled. "You got this, Sammy. We're gonna spend all night babysittin' a pissed off creature and roast its happy ass in the morning."

Sam nodded and managed a smile. "And then you're gonna fuck me, right?"

Dean shivered and hunched over, digging his palm into his cock while Sam's words rolled over him. "You asshole," he said with a laugh.

Sam chuckled and put a knee on the back seat. "Just don't wanna be the only one having a hard time." He crawled back into the seat and laid down, resting against the opposite door. He had a perfect view of the back of the house and the open door on the deck. The last of the sun's rays crawled across the house and faded away.

"Showtime, Sammy." Dean knocked on the glass behind his brother's head twice and jogged around and to the far side of the deck. It was as far away as he was willing to get from his brother. The world quickly darkened around him, dusk giving way to true night faster than Dean would have liked. He twitched with nerves as he crouched there waiting and looked at his brother's head through the rear window of the Impala, wondering what he was thinking about.

Sam eased a hand over himself through his jeans as he watched the back of the house. It was lust the cambion needed to feed off of, and he knew the best way to get it out there was to give it what it wanted. He closed his eyes and pictured his brother. He remembered the first time Dean had tied him to the back of the Impala, how he had flogged him, spanked him... how Dean had fucked him screaming with the plug still in his ass. Sam groaned and tipped his head back against the glass as he thrust up against his own hand.

"Fuck, Dean," Sam moaned softly, lost in the fantasy in his mind. He stiffened slightly when he felt a change in air pressure, something else entering the car with him, and then hands were on him. Sam's eyes flew open and he stared. "Dean? What are you doing? Get out of here!"

"Sound too damn good, Sammy." Dean shook his head and crawled over Sam in the seat. "Hear you moanin' in here and how am I supposed to just sit out there and not do anything about it?"

Sam frowned when Dean's hands took hold of his. "Dean..." He gasped when his brother shoved his arms behind his own back and took hold of both wrists to pin him. "Dammit, stop. The creature..."

"Can get it's own damn piece of ass," Dean snarled.

"You have to get out of here before it comes. We can do this later." Sam bucked against his brother, trying to snap him out of the lust that seemed to have taken him over. "Dean, come on. It's not safe."

"Stop squirming."

Sam watched as Dean took out a blade. "Uh, Dean?"

"Too many clothes, Sam."

"No, no. Stop! Dammit!" Sam twisted, trying to get away and then froze when he felt the edge of the blade on the inseam of his jeans. He watched Dean give a controlled flick of his wrist and Sam felt the denim between his legs part and a cool breeze rush across his crotch. "Jesus, Dean. What the hell? Stop. The cambion could be here any minute." He felt the first true trickle of fear when Dean set the knife aside and unbuckled his belt, shoving his own jeans down enough to free his hard cock.

"Dean!" Sam fought it as Dean forced his legs further apart. "This isn't... this isn't you! It's the cambion screwing with your head! Dean, stop!"

Dean's free hand came up in a vicious backhand that snapped Sam's head back and left him momentarily stunned. "Not like you to say no, Sam. In fact, I seem to remember you giving yourself over to me a long time ago. You don't GET to say no."

"This is wrong. It's not you." Sam pulled, trying to free his arms but Dean had him in a bruising grip.

"Sure it is, Sam. You're nothing but my little slut and I can tap this fine ass whenever and however I want. Now stop whining."

"Ch – cherries." Sam knew it was a long shot with Dean so far gone into whatever the cambion was doing to him, but he hoped that the rarely used safe word – the ultimate word of total trust between them – would get through to his brother, but Dean just snarled and twisted Sam's arms up even further behind him, eliciting a gasp of pain.

"Nuh-uh, little brother." He grabbed a handful of Sam's hair with his free hand and yanked his head back brutally hard, tugging cruelly with each word, "Told you, you. don't. get. to. say. no! Not this time." Dean chuckled and licked up the side of Sam's face. "God, you should see yourself, all spread out for me like the little slut you are. I'm gonna enjoy this." Dean gave him a filthy grin and lined his cock up.

Sam half-sobbed/half-shouted when Dean thrust into him hard. With none of Dean's customary care and preparation, not even any lube to ease the way, it hurt like hell. Sam felt like he was being split in two, and shocked tears fell down his face while Dean thrust and grunted in his ear. "Dean, please." He suffered both for himself and for his brother. He knew Dean would never forgive himself for this later. He turned his head away instinctively when Dean tried to kiss him and choked back a sob.

"What's... wrong... Sam? Not... not enjoying... yourself?"

"You're not yourself," Sam gasped and yelled again in pain as Dean made a particularly brutal thrust into him. "Dean... Dean, please." He rocked against the door of the Impala as Dean moved over him. The pain spread all through his pelvis, into his hips. It hurt so much each time Dean drove him into him. They had played plenty rough many times before, but Dean had never, EVER been brutal or cruel. He felt cold with the shock of it and began to feel numb from the horror of what was happening. His big brother was raping him. Even thinking it fractured something in Sam's mind and he felt tears flowing down his cheeks, his own hiccuping sobs filling the car above the obscene sounds Dean was making. His brother's grip on his wrists was cutting off the flow of blood and he was losing feeling in his fingers.

"Dean, this isn't you," Sam moaned it and then it struck him like the last light of day breaking through a fog, Sam suddenly knew what was happening.

Sam's eyes flew open and he looked at the face so close to his own. "Ave Maria, gratia plena," he whispered it. "Benedicta tu in mulierbus, et benedictus fructus ventris tui, Jesus." Sam's voice rose as he recited the angelic salutation and Dean flinched above him.

"Shut up, Sam."

"Sancta Maria, Mater Dei." Sam jerked his head away when Dean snarled and tried to cover his mouth with his free hand. "Ora pro nobis pec... peccatoribus!" He jerked his arms free when Dean's grip faltered and at last managed to get one leg up enough to kick his brother, or the image of him, back. He gasped loudly as Dean's cock slid out of him and Sam felt for the latch of the door behind him with tingling fingers. "Nunc et in hora..." He found the handle and pulled while the other door across from him slammed closed against Dean's back. "...mortis nostrae, amen!" Sam shouted it hoarsely and toppled out of the car to the cold grass. He kicked the door closed as an inhuman roar came from inside the car.

"Hey, hey, move, dammit!"

Sam flinched when hands grabbed him and he was pulled up from the ground and spun to find Dean's face next to his. "Dean."

"Come on!" Dean half-carried Sam over the salt line he had poured around the car and dragged him to the other side and up to the deck. He set him on one of the deck chairs and patted his shoulder. "Stay here for a sec. Gonna make sure big ugly's secured, ok? Ok."

Sam watched Dean jog back down to the car in a daze. This was 'his' Dean, of that he was sure. This time he knew it. There had been nothing but concern in his eyes when he'd pulled Sam up from the ground, and Sam knew Dean had no idea yet what had happened inside the car. Sam put a hand to his head, running his fingers through his hair, wondering if it had happened at all or if it was just in his mind. He looked down at himself and ran a hand up his thigh toward his crotch.

"Sammy?" Dean came back to his brother and knelt beside him. He watched Sam pull a hand up to his crotch and frowned. "Dude, what gives?" He looked at his brother and his eyes went wide when he realized that Sam's face was glistening in the moonlight; his brother had been crying and damn hard from the looks of it. "Sam?" Dean asked softly and cupped a hand over his jaw. "Hey, talk to me. What happened?"

Sam's fingers found his jeans in one piece. They had never been cut. He shuddered as his brother's hand settled on his skin. "Dean. It's... it's you."

"Whoa!" Dean found himself with his arms full of little brother and sat back on the deck with a thump. "Ok. Hey. Yeah, of course it's me. Sam, you need to talk to me." It had been a full five minutes after the cambion had crawled slowly out of the house and into the car before Sam had come tumbling out the other side with a yell. Dean had had more than enough time to pour a salt ring tightly around the Impala and then had to used every ounce of his control to wait and not go tearing into the car and rip the thing away from his brother.

Dean smoothed his hands around his brother's back and slid one over Sam's collar, giving it a little tug. "Are you ok?" He forcibly moved Sam back enough to get a look at him. Dean glanced down and jerked in fear. "Jesus! Sammy?" He shoved his hands between them and fingered the wide tears in the belly of the bulletproof vest his brother was wearing. The fabric was torn into shreds, and he could feel furrows dug in the armor beneath it. "Holy shit."

"Dean." Sam brought his hands up and framed his brother's face. The horror of what he had endured was still flowing through him, still making him cold with shock. Part of him knew it had not been real, but it had sure as hell felt real, and still did. "Got in my head."

"The cambion?" Dean asked and Sam nodded. Dean put a hand up and brushed at his brother's wet cheeks. "Sammy, talk to me." He ignored the sounds of the enraged creature inside the car behind them. For now, it was safely contained. "Come on, baby boy. Tell me what happened?" Sam looked like he was slipping into shock and Dean could feel him shaking against him.

"Dammit. Ok." He moved and shifted and slowly managed to stand with Sam holding on to him, like his little brother was loathe to let him go. "Just hang on. Here. Sit here, ok?"

"Don't!" Sam yelled when Dean pulled away from him. He was stuck in a nightmare where Dean left and the creature came back to attack him again.

"I'm just goin' to grab a blanket, Sammy. Hey, it's ok. Two seconds." Dean pried his brother's hands from him and ran inside the house. He looked around the trashed living room and plucked a big, fleece blanket off the floor. He ran back outside with it and met Sam at the door. "Hey, I told you to stay." He led Sam back to the big deck chair and tried to put him in it. When that didn't work, with Sam refusing to sit and be parted from him, Dean rolled his eyes and sat down, recognizing that, whatever the hell was going on, the creature was still completely messing with Sam's emotions. He pulled Sam down half on his lap and wrapped the blanket around him. He suddenly realized that his own connection with the creature seemed to have been broken. Here he was holding Sam so close and all he could think about was comforting him and making sure he was okay. The exaggerated lust was gone, thank God.

"Ok, take a breath, Sam. Seriously." Dean rubbed his hands briskly up and down his brother's arms to help warm him up. "I need you to breathe for me, ok? In and out, Sammy."

Sam focused on the sound of Dean's voice, the love and fear laced through it, and the look of love in his eyes that had been missing in the car, though he'd been too upset to see it at the time. He listened to him and slowly managed to match his breathing to Dean's. He didn't know how long they sat there just breathing, staring into each other's eyes with the cambion raging inside the car beyond them, but finally Sam collapsed against him and wormed one arm free of the blanket to wrap it around Dean's neck.

"Right here, Sammy. I'm right here." Dean pulled him close and snuggled his brother the way Sam loved it. He always had, since he was small, long before things had become so much more between them. "What happened? Can you tell me now?"

Sam swallowed hard and nodded. "The cambion, it was in my head." He tightened his arm around his brother's neck, grateful that Dean remained quiet and gave him the time he needed. "It... the lore said it could cause hallucinations, violent hallucinations. I didn't... I didn't think how real it could be." He still felt a burning pain between his legs, a distant echo of the what the cambion had done to him in his brother's guise. Dean's arms tightened around him, and Sam let out the breath he'd been holding in a shuddering gasp.

"Tell me," Dean said quietly.

"I thought it was you," Sam whispered it in a small, horrified voice and felt the violent lurch of Dean's body against his in reaction. "I thought... thought the cambion's lust had just, I don't know, taken you over or something. I thought you couldn't... couldn't stop yourself, and I couldn't get... You were... it was holding me so tight, I couldn't... I didn't..."

"Hey, hey. Stop." Dean felt tears running down his own cheeks as he squeezed Sam and he began to understand what the creature had done to his brother. "Sam. Did it... did I... rape you?" The harsh flinch Sam gave him was all the answer he needed, and Dean's heart broke a little. "Oh my, God," he breathed, horrified. It hit him then, why Sam had jerked away from him outside the car and Dean felt sick. He tensed and started to push Sam gently away from him. He couldn't imagine how Sam was even letting Dean touch him with what had happened. Understanding why his brother had put a hand between his legs hit him like a physical blow, and Dean needed to not be touching him; not be forcing his touch on his little brother.

"Dean, no." Sam refused to let his brother push him away in some well-meaning act of self sacrifice; not right then. Having the real Dean holding him was the only thing keeping him together. "Don't leave me. Please, don't. I need you."

"How can you even let me touch you? Fuck, Sammy."

"Because it wasn't you. It wasn't real." Sam said it firmly. "I knew it wasn't. I mean, not at first, but when I figured it out... it wasn't you. It wasn't you." He pulled his brother to him more tightly and buried his face in his neck where he could smell Dean cleanly. "This is you. Need you."

Dean fought the heavy roll of his stomach and settled back in the chair. He held on to his brother since Sam obviously had no intentions of letting him do anything else considering how hard he had his arms wrapped around Dean. "Ok. Ok. Not goin' anywhere."

Sam allowed himself to relax minutely and turned his head enough to see the Impala. The chassis of the car rocked from side to side while the creature inside it roared at being trapped. "Will it hold?"

"Think so, yeah." Dean dropped his chin into Sam's hair and tried to push away the horror of what had been done to his brother... what he had ALLOWED to happen to his brother, all for the sake of stopping a creature. "I'm so sorry, Sammy. Christ, I should have..."

"No." Sam leaned back suddenly and met Dean's eyes fiercely, though tears still welled in his own to obscure his vision. "It was my decision. It was my idea. And I... I was right." He gave a weak approximation of a smile. "Got the creature."

"Aw, Sammy." Dean pulled him in when fresh tears overflowed his brother's eyes. "Yeah, we got 'im. It was a good plan."

Sam sniffed. "It was a shit plan, but it worked." He rolled his face into Dean's neck in a silent plea for comfort. "Wish now I'd thought of a better way."

"Shh. I've gotcha." Dean tipped Sam's head with his chin and put a chaste kiss on his temple. He held his brother while he shivered, knowing it was more from shock than cold, and watched the hours tick away through the night.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-** _

Dean groaned softly and stretched over the back of the deck chair. His head and shoulders and arms were cold, but the rest of him was kept warm by his blanket-wrapped little brother. Sam had slipped down to sit on the deck between his legs during the night and was laid against his chest, with his arms wrapped around his chest. He sighed and looked out at the Impala. The cambion had gone mostly quiet over the last couple hours inside the car. Dean checked his watch and then looked up at the lightening sky.

"Sammy," Dean put his hands on his brother's shoulders and gently nudged him. "Hey, almost showtime."

Sam stirred from his half sleep and loosened the grip he had around his brother. "Time's it?"

"Almost dawn." Dean stretched his legs alongside Sam's body, easing the ache of sitting in that damn chair all night long. But he wouldn't have moved, not a muscle. Sam needed him close and Dean couldn't take that away from him, not even to take a piss. He helped Sam uncurl himself and stood, easing his brother up into the chair and went to the edge of the deck for that piss.

Sam smirked while Dean unbuckled his pants and leaned back as he peed off the railing of the deck into the grass. He restrained himself from following Dean three feet away. He felt weak and ridiculous for needing to be close to him, to touch him, but after what had happened... Sam shook hard, once and straightened in the chair. While still vivid, the memory of what had happened the night before was starting to fade ever so slightly, kind of like the way even a remembered dream becomes hazy after a while, slightly less real. He stood stiffly and let the blanket drop onto the chair. The chill morning air hit him and he wrapped his arms around himself. He felt the tears in the bulletproof vest he'd never taken off and shivered again, knowing how close he had come to being gutted.

"Hey, you good?" Dean zipped himself up and went to Sam, laying a tentative hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah. I mean no, but... I'm ok." Sam nodded to the car and then flinched back a step when the cambion suddenly roared. "Shit."

"It's ok." Dean slid his arm over his brother's shoulders. "Come on. Let's go finish this." He looked up as the first ray of sunlight speared over the top of the house and hit the trees at the back of the property. "Huh." Dean frowned. "Maybe should have parked the car on the east side of the house. Well, shit."

Sam was surprised into a soft laugh and leaned against Dean. "How do you want to do this? Guns?"

"You want to try the exorcism?" Dean asked and stepped away from Sam enough to take out his gun. It had dug into his back all night in the chair, but there had been no way he was setting it away from him, not while he had to protect Sam.

Sam shook his head. "Don't think it'll do anything but piss it off. Even the Angelic Salutation only distracted it long enough f-for me to... to get..."

"Ok, hey. Shh." Dean grabbed Sam and pulled him against him. "It's over. It's over, Sammy. You're safe."

Sam nodded and took a few deep breaths before he felt steady enough to stand on his own again. Slightly faded or not, it was going to take a while to completely get over that memory."If, uh... if sunlight makes it mortal, bullets should work.

Dean nodded and gave his brother a smile. "I've got enough fuel in the trunk to salt and burn that son of a bitch when we do put it down. I'm gonna check the salt line."

"Ok." Sam took out his own gun and watched Dean walk away from him off the deck. Every step his brother took away seemed to echo in Sam's brain. Fear flowed through him and he shook his head, trying to push it away but it grew with each moment. This was not just leftover fear from the night before. This was something new. He clenched his jaw in order to stop himself calling out for his brother as Dean neared the car and began walking a slow circle, checking the ring of salt and making sure the dew that had collected overnight wasn't in danger of dissolving any and breaking their only means of keeping the thing trapped.

"Looks good!" Dean called. He rounded the far side of the Impala and looked in the windows. The glass was fogged over from the cambion inside, and he didn't even want to think about what sort of damage the damn thing had done to his baby as it raged periodically throughout the night. He looked down at the salt line again and nodded. It was damp but he'd purposefully made it thick enough to survive the night so long as it didn't rain, and the sky had remained clear all through the night.

Sam swallowed around the lump of fear in his throat and nodded. He stood on the deck, looking at Dean some twenty feet away and it suddenly felt like it could have been a thousand. In his mind, the cambion was coming for him again and he began to shake. Darkness started to creep into his vision as his breathing picked up and panic flooded through him. "Dean," he gasped softly and backed up a step. He thought he saw his brother moving toward him but he couldn't be sure. "Dean!"

"Sammy?" Dean carefully skirted the car while the cambion snarled inside and ran to the deck. He saw Sam stagger back and broke into a sprint. He reached Sam just in time to catch him as he crumpled. "Sam!" Dean went to his knees and pulled his brother into his chest. "No, no, no. Hey, come on. Sammy, look at me!"

Dean rolled his brother's face into his hand so he could see him and scowled. Sam was pale and whitening as he watched. He felt the tremble in his brother's body worsen and slid his hand to Sam's neck. He could feel his brother's pulse speeding beneath his fingers. Dean looked up to the Impala and saw the sunlight slowly creeping closer to the roof. He scowled. "Oh, you bastard." He wasn't sure how he knew, but somehow he was sure the cambion was draining more energy from his brother in an effort to stay alive.

"Ok, buddy. I've got this." Dean eased Sam to the deck gently. He reached over and pulled the blanket off the chair, folding it hastily and slipped it under Sam's head. "I'll be back, Sammy. I'm gonna end this. You're gonna be fine."

Dean picked up his gun and stood. He startled a little when his phone went off. Dean pulled it out of his pocket and saw it was Steve. "Hey. It's Joe isn't it?"

"Dean, he's unconscious!" Steve's voice was panicked. "We were talking and then he just collapsed and I can't wake him up. What's happening?"

"The creature. It's trying to stay alive and it's draining him and Sam both." Dean stepped down off the deck toward his car. "I'm gonna fix this. Won't be long now." He closed the phone and shoved it back in his pocket as he neared the Impala.

"Alright, you son of a bitch." Dean stayed carefully outside the salt circle and reached across to open the back door. The cambion was crouched on the back seat. Its misshapen body was curled over, its back resting against the roof, and two orange eyes glared out at him from black sockets in leathery like skin. Dean sneered at it as it bared dripping fangs to him. "Time to die."

Dean moved quickly around the car to the other side and pulled that door open as well. He backed up a few steps and knelt on one knee, bringing his gun up and sighting along it to the creature. The cambion turned awkwardly inside the car and roared at him. The sunlight moved, inching down until it struck the roof of the Impala and crept lower to shine in the open doors. The cambion screamed as the light touched it and flattened itself to the seat.

"Not yet," Dean muttered to himself and waited. He watched the sun come closer and closer until finally there was nowhere for the cambion to go to escape it. It screamed again, and this time, Dean could hear the pain in the sound. He smiled grimly. Through the open doors, he could see Sam's body begin to twitch on the deck, almost like he was seizing, and he kept his focus with a rigid effort.

Dean waited until the creature was completely engulfed in sunlight. Smoke rose from its dark skin and curled along the interior of the car to roll out into the sun. Dean watched it writhe and waited until its eyes met his again. He fired between them. The cambion's head was thrown back on a howl. Dean crouched and moved a few steps closer, just outside the salt line and fired again, aiming for the heart. He fired again and again while rage for what it had put his brother through sang through his mind, and finally, the creature tumbled out the other door into the direct sunlight.

"Shit!" Dean jerked to his feet and ran around the car. He found the cambion sprawled across the salt line. It was being baked by the sun as he watched, its skin beginning to bubble and burst. He aimed again and put another round through its skull. The creature stopped twitching and Dean cautiously lowered his gun. He took a step closer and gave it a kick. The body stayed still.

"Son of a bitch," Dean snarled. He put his gun up and ran up the deck to his brother. "Sammy?"

Dean gathered him up into his arms, pulling Sam against his chest as the twitching stopped. He watched color slowly began to seep back into Sam's face and smiled in relief when Sam's eyes slowly began to flutter open. "Hey, Sammy. You with me?"

Sam felt a tingling all through his body and sluggishly picked a hand up, raising it to his brother's chest. He curled his fingers into his shirt and held on. "Cambion?" he rasped.

"Dead," Dean assured him. He held Sam's hand against his chest and smiled. "Sun's up. It's roasting it as we speak."

Sam nodded wearily and let his eyes close again. "S'good."

"Hey, hey! No, come on. Stay with me, Sammy. Please." Dean sat down and rolled Sam into his chest.

"M'ok." Sam whispered it into his brother's neck. His whole body hurt. It ached like he'd been beaten within an inch of his life. His fingers and toes were tingling and his head was pounding. But, as he felt around inside his own mind, the sick, oily feeling of the cambion's touch was gone. He was free. "S'gone."

"Ok. Alright." Dean hitched Sam's head higher against his shoulder and did something he almost never did, since his little brother got taller than he was. Dean stood and awkwardly pulled Sam up with him, scooping his arm under his brother's knees and lifted him like a child. "You can kick me for this... when you're better." He went into the house, carrying his brother carefully. Dean walked through the debris in the halls and toward their rooms, hoping that they had been spared the ghost's wrath before they sent it on.

The door to their rooms was closed when Dean got there and he bent awkwardly to get a hand on the knob and turn it. It opened and Dean smiled to see that the spirit's destruction didn't seem to have reached there. The lights were on and Dean quickly went through to the bedroom where he laid Sam gently on the bed. He sat his brother up long enough to peel him out of the ruined bulletproof vest and laid him back.

"There you go, buddy." Dean tugged the blankets up and over him and sat beside him. He took out his phone and dialed. "Steve?"

"Oh, my God. Dean." Steve's voice was heavy with relief. "He's awake. Well, he was. He just passed out again, but I think he's just sleeping. Sam?"

"The same." Dean scrubbed his free hand over his face while he looked at his brother. "The house is safe. Get yourself and Joe back here when you can. Sam's in our room. I'm gonna go finish cleaning up out back. And ,uh..." Dean smirked. "The ghost kind of made a mess of shit before we sent his ass packing. The house is a wreck."

"I'll take it." Steve smiled. "Thank you, Dean. We'll see you soon."

Dean hung up and turned back to his brother. "Sammy?" He palmed the side of Sam's face and leaned down to kiss him lightly. "Hey, baby. Wake up for a minute." He didn't want to leave without telling Sam where he was going. He smiled when he was rewarded with the feeling of Sam's hand bumping into his shoulder. "I gotta go finish torching the creature's body, alright? Five minutes."

Sam frowned at that and got his eyes open. "Dean?"

"Hey, I gotta go burn the cambion." Dean smiled and traced Sam's bottom lip. "House is safe. Steve and Joe are gonna be back soon too. Five minutes, maybe ten, and I'll climb in this bed with you, ok?"

Sam swallowed his gut reaction to keep Dean with him and nodded. "I'll be fine."

"I know you will." Dean bent and rested his forehead against Sam's for a moment. "Proud of you, Sammy. You did real good tonight. And you're safe, ok? It can't hurt you anymore. Nothing can. I've got you."

Sam closed his eyes and tugged on Dean's shoulder to try and get him closer but his brother pulled away and stood. "Know it wasn't you," he said and looked up at Dean with all the sincerity he could. "You didn't hurt me, Dean. You never would."

Dean nodded and gave a small smile. "Damn straight. I'll be back." He watched Sam's eyes fall closed again, a little at a time, like he was fighting it and he smiled once Sam went limp in the bed again. "I'm sorry, Sammy," he whispered. He wasn't sure how he would ever get past knowing that the creature had used an image of him to rape his brother; he wasn't sure how Sam ever would. "I'm sorry."

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_To Be Continued..._


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Hope you all enjoyed the ride with this one! :D There'll be a companion fic at some point soon, telling the story of the first time Sam experienced sub-drop, as referenced in an earlier chapter here. One of my pimp-momma's requested hell out of that one. HAha 
> 
> Graphic depictions within. Beta'd by the always awesome JaniceC678
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own 'em but if I did, they'd never get dressed.
> 
> ~Reviews are love~

 

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_"Sammy?" He palmed the side of Sam's face and leaned down to kiss him lightly. "Hey, baby. Wake up for a minute." He didn't want to leave without telling Sam where he was going. He smiled when he was rewarded with the feeling of Sam's hand bumping into his shoulder. "I gotta go finish torching the creature's body, alright? Five minutes."_

_Sam frowned at that and got his eyes open. "Dean?"_

_"Hey, I gotta go burn the cambion." Dean smiled and traced Sam's bottom lip. "House is safe. Steve and Joe are gonna be back soon too. Five minutes, maybe ten, and I'll climb in this bed with you, ok?"_

_Sam swallowed his gut reaction to keep Dean with him and nodded. "I'll be fine."_

_"I know you will." Dean bent and rested his forehead against Sam's for a moment. "Proud of you, Sammy. You did real good tonight. And you're safe, ok? It can't hurt you anymore. Nothing can. I've got you."_

_Sam closed his eyes and tugged on Dean's shoulder to try and get him closer but his brother pulled away and stood. "Know it wasn't you," he said and looked up at Dean with all the sincerity he could. "You didn't hurt me, Dean. You never would."_

_Dean nodded and gave a small smile. "I'll be back." He watched Sam's eyes fall closed again, a little at a time, like he was fighting it and he smiled once Sam went limp in the bed again. "I'm sorry, Sammy," he whispered. He wasn't sure how he would ever get past knowing that the creature had used an image of him to rape his brother; he wasn't sure how Sam ever would. "I'm sorry."_

**Chapter 7**

Dean sat on the couch in his and Sam's rooms and looked up as Steve walked in the door with a perfunctory knock. "How's Joe?"

Steve ran both hands through his blonde hair and blew out a breath before he smiled. "Ok, I think. Exhausted and sleeping, but he slapped my hand when I started fussing and told me to fuck off, so I think he's back to normal."

Dean laughed and nodded. "Good." The last three days had been rough. Dean and Steve had both been on constant alert, and Sam and Joe had both experienced a sort of emotional storm as their brains readjusted to produce chemicals the way they were supposed to, at least according to the doctor they had dragged both men to the day after the cambion died.

"What about Sam?" Steve asked and didn't miss the way Dean's face darkened or how the man looked longingly toward the bedroom but made no move to go there. He had been off ever since he and Joe had returned to the house; both brothers had. "Dean? What happened?"

"It... Sam, he..." Dean groaned and thumped back into the couch wearily.

"Dean, come on." Steve sat on the coffee table in front of him and put a hand on his knee. "You've been dancing around it for three days, and I know something bad happened. I can see it on both your faces. Sam looks like someone kicked his puppy, and you keep acting like you can't stand to be near him. It's not healthy, so talk to me." Steve smiled and waited for Dean's eyes to meet his. "I'm your friend. Also, you saved my ass, Joe's ass – which I really seriously appreciate, by the way - and our home AND our business, so, you know... whatever you need." He grinned.

Dean couldn't help but laugh at that. It quickly faded though and he dropped his eyes again. "The cambion was in his head."

"Yeah, that much I know." Steve nodded.

"It... Sam used himself for bait to lure it out of the house." Dean closed his eyes and could see it all over again; the way his palms had twitched as he'd been forced to wait and watch the creature slink across the ground and inside the car with Sam. It had damn near killed him to let that happen. "It made him hallucinate. Sam thought..." Dean glared down at the floor and didn't realize he was fisting his hands until Steve grabbed one and started massaging his tense knuckles. "He thought I had crawled in the car with him, but it wasn't me. That thing, it made Sam think... it raped him."

Steve sucked in a breath in shock and swallowed hard. He grabbed Dean's other hand and offered him the only comfort he could.

Dean appreciated the silence right then. "It was all in Sam's head, the... the rape, but it happened. It happened. It felt real to him. He remembers it. Keeps waking up yelling my name and... and 'no.' Over and over. He begs me to stop, and I don't..." Dean hunched forward, pulling his hands away from Steve and wrapped them around his head in his misery. "How can I ever touch him again?" he whispered it.

"Oh, Dean." Steve moved to sit beside him and pulled the larger man in against him, sliding an arm over his shoulders in shared misery. "Sam knows it wasn't you, doesn't he?" Dean nodded but said nothing and Steve smiled. "He knows you didn't hurt him. Dean, you have to let it go. No; listen to me," he said when he felt Dean tense. "Sam's not going to be able to deal with what happened to him until you let him; until you show him that it's alright and it doesn't change how you think or feel about him." He moved back to the table and took a deep breath.

"Dean, Joe was raped." He nodded when Dean's head jerked up and green eyes flashed dangerously. "We'd been dating for a couple of months. He was a dancer at a club, and I was supposed to pick him up that night." Steve blew out a breath and shrugged. "I overslept. When I called him two hours later, a nurse at the hospital answered his phone."

"Jesus." Dean took Steve's hand this time and put his other on his shoulder.

"It was bad for a while. And I had trouble looking him in the eyes for weeks. I felt so guilty." Steve shook his head sadly. "I kept saying, if I had just been there, if I hadn't let him down, it never would have happened. I thought it was my fault."

"It wasn't," Dean said quickly.

Steve looked back up and smiled at him. "No, it wasn't. And this wasn't your fault." he squeezed the hand Dean was holding. "I was hurting him and I didn't realize. I was kicking myself so hard for what had happened, I didn't see how much it was hurting him, that he couldn't move past it because I wouldn't." He shook his head again. "I'm not saying I'm alright with it. It was years ago, and I will never be alright with it. I love him and they hurt him and I wanted them dead, but... but he's the one who has to live with the reality of it. And if the best thing I can do for him is stop blaming myself, then that's what I'm gonna do."

Dean dropped his hand and rubbed his face before sitting back again, letting Steve's words sink in. He finally nodded slowly "Ok. I get what you're saying. I hadn't even thought about it that way, but... it makes sense. You're right."

"I know I am." Steve grinned, then looked toward the bedroom and his face softened. "The nightmares might take a while, but he'll be alright. He's got you."

"Yeah, he does." Dean let Steve's calm flow through him. He nodded and stood. "I'm gonna turn in. And, Steve, thanks for, you know, sharing that. I'm sorry you guys had to go through that, but I get it now. It helps, what you said."

Steve nodded his acknowledgement and then smiled again and clapped Dean on the shoulder. "Coffee and pancakes in the morning. Joe had a craving. I make amazing pancakes."

Dean chuckled and saw him to the door. "We'll be there." He closed it and went through to the bedroom. He shucked out of his clothes, watching his brother sleep, and then carefully climbed into the bed beside him. Dean had barely settled on his back before Sam was rolling toward him and sliding an arm and a leg over on top of him.

Dean smirked. "Hey, Sammy. Didn't mean to wake you."

"Mmf, didn't." Sam grumbled sleepily into his brother's chest. "Shuddup. Sleep."

"Yes, sir." Dean wrapped both arms around his brother and held him tight. He felt the familiar fear coming over him, that his touch would do nothing but remind Sam of what the cambion had done to him with his face. He pushed it back and relaxed into his brother. "Love you, Sammy," he whispered into Sam's hair. He brushed his fingers over the fading bruises around Sam's wrist on his chest and clasped it gently, a silent promise to protect him.

Sam sighed peacefully with Dean holding him properly. He breathed in the scent of his brother, relieved that for once, Dean wouldn't be sleeping on the couch or perched on the edge of the bed. He let himself fall easily to sleep with Dean's fingers carding through his hair and smiled.

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Sam sat at the kitchen counter of the big house sipping his coffee and watched Dean as he cooked lunch with Steve. They had learned over the last week that the two men shared a love of cooking, burgers being a particular passion. He smirked while Dean waxed poetic about the perfect combination of herbs and spices while waving a handful of raw meat toward Steve.

"He's enjoying himself a little too much with that meat," Joe said with a chuckle and sat beside Sam. "How many beers are they in?"

Sam snorted a laugh. "Oh, no. This is sober behavior. If there were beer involved, Steve would be spattered in raw beef by now."

"Ah, good to know." Joe looked between Sam and Dean and leaned a little closer to the younger brother. "So, he still treating you with kid gloves?"

Sam instantly blew out a long breath and his shoulders slumped. He nodded. "Not that I'm complaining about the sex! I'm not!" He made an effort to keep his voice down so Dean wouldn't hear him on the other side of the kitchen. He really wasn't complaining. Each time they had made love in the last week, Dean had been attentive above and beyond his usual self, always making sure Sam felt good and had the sort of orgasms that left him boneless. He had also shied away from anything resembling BDSM in that time, other than fondling Sam's collar every time his fingers got near his brother's neck. Other than that, it was all gentle tenderness, which was nice, but Sam was missing that other aspect of their relationship, the dominant Dean who would throw his ass on the bed, manhandle him into whatever position he wanted, and play rough with him. "I don't know what to do. I think he's uncomfortable with me now."

Joe sighed, hearing the miserable tone in Sam's voice even if Sam himself wasn't aware of it. "He's just... confused." He shrugged when Sam looked over at him. "Steve had the same problem."

Sam nodded and looked back to his brother. It had bothered him at first that Dean had told Steve about the cambion's attack, but then he was glad. It saved him having to dance around the subject or lie. It was actually a relief, and when Dean had told him what Steve had said, Sam had sobbed for Joe, wrapped himself around his brother, and felt the intense urge to find the men who had hurt him and make them pay. He took a deep breath to settle himself and sipped his coffee again.

"How did Steve get past it?"

Joe chuckled. "I pissed him off on purpose every chance I got until he couldn't take it anymore and snapped at me." He grinned at Sam. "Then I hit my knees, assumed the position, and begged. Well, I begged with his cock in my mouth. I was very convincing."

Sam was surprised into laughter. He waved a hand when Steve and Dean looked over at them curiously. "Just... nothing. Go back to bonding."

Joe grinned and winked at the men before leaning back into Sam. "So, we need to ambush Dean. 'Cause if he has time to think about it, he'll find a way out of it, in your best interests of course." Joe rolled his eyes for what he thought of that and Sam chuckled softly in response.

"Yeah. He's been real good at that." Sam ran his fingers over his collar and really, truly missed the special kind of connection they had when they played. "I need him back, Joe. I need to know that..." he sighed and shook his head. "That he knows I'm still the same person, that I still trust him." He dropped his head and stared into his coffee cup while he whispered; "I need him to be my dom again. I really, really miss that."

Joe put an arm around Sam and squeezed him. "Then we'll get him back for you."

"Sammy?" Dean asked worriedly when he saw his brother's head down and Joe sliding an arm around him. He came over and around the counter quickly, reaching for him. "You alright?"

"Whoa! No way!" Sam leaned back into Joe and away from his brother with a laugh. "You are not touching me with beef hands."

Dean looked down at the ball of raw meat in his hand and grinned. "You know you love my meat."

"Dude." Sam eased off the stool and away from Dean's hands with a smile. "Go. Play with your meat with Steve."

"Come on." Joe tugged on Sam's hand. "Gotta show you the game room. Just hooked up the Xbox 360. Let me whoop your ass at Call of Duty for a while."

"Oh, Lord." Steve snorted a laugh. "We'll rescue you for dinner, Sam."

Sam chuckled and waved a hand at his brother while Joe pulled him out of the room. Dean turned back to put the meat back in the bowl and frowned. "He didn't look alright."

"Dean, he had a traumatic experience. You both did." Steve clapped a hand to Dean's shoulder and smiled. "It's ok for you or him to have bad moments. Doesn't mean he's gonna fall apart. And he was laughing when he walked away. He's ok." He handed Dean a towel to clean off his hands and leaned against the counter. "So, how long are you going to refuse to be Sam's dom again?"

"Huh?" Dean stared at Steve in shock. "What... how?"

"Been there, remember?" Steve chuckled and pushed Dean onto a stool. "Sam been trying to get you to do it?" He smiled when Dean nodded. "Then do it. If he's asking, it's because he wants it, and, more importantly, he probably needs it."

"Needs me to hold him down and force him?" Dean asked darkly and shook his head.

Steve landed a solid punch on Dean's shoulder that got the man's attention. "You ever force him to do anything before that creature?"

"Of fucking course not. Why the fuck would you even ask that?" Dean demanded angrily.

"Hey, you said it first, not me." Steve held Dean's angry glare without flinching. "So unless you're suddenly planning to hold him down and force him, that comment doesn't even make sense. You and I both know what you and Sam have, what me and Joe have, it's not about force. Is it?" Steve waited for Dean's slow nod. "They're the ones with all the power, and yet they turn themselves over to us, leave themselves completely vulnerable. And I can tell you, having Joe put that unwavering trust in me? Every damn time, it amazes me. He amazes me."

"Yeah." Dean scrubbed his hands down his face and sat back to really think about it. It was true; while Dean was the dominant, was ostensibly the one in charge, it was Sam who ultimately decided what they did and how far they would go. And Sam who only had to say a single word and trusted without question that Dean would stop. The knowledge that Sam seemed to still have that trust in him, even after what the cambion had done to him, was sobering. "Fuck, I'm really screwing this up, huh?"

Steve laughed and shook his head. "No. You're not. You're just getting over a hell of a shock and Sam's probably asking for you to top him again because he needs to feel that trust, that care that only you can give him. You make him feel safe, Dean."

"Makes me feel safe," Dean muttered and then looked up with a lopsided smile. "Don't tell him I said that. He'll get all soft and... and turn it into a damn chick flick." He grinned when Steve laughed again and stood up, giving himself a shake. "Ok, let's make these burgers and then maybe we need to plan that evening, now that it's safe around here."

"Good man." Steve clapped Dean on the back and handed him the bowl of meat. "Don't leave beef hand prints on my shirt."

Dean snorted, took the bowl, and felt a little lighter in his heart. "Hey, Steve? Thanks, man." He pulled Steve into a hug, giving the surprised man a quick embrace before stepping back and then smirked, pointing to a spot on the shoulder of Steve's white shirt. "Uh, you got a little something right there."

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Dean fidgeted nervously, plucking at the buckle of his belt and tugging on the cord of his amulet and letting it thump on his bare chest. He rolled his eyes at himself and leaned against the wall instead, going for nonchalant though he felt a bit silly in leather pants and little else.

"Good grief, Dean. You're not going to your execution." Steve chuckled when he walked around the corner and saw Dean waiting in the hall. "You could smile a little. We're going to have fun tonight, remember? You, me, Sam, and Joe, and hopefully a few screaming orgasms."

Dean chuckled and straightened. He gave himself a shake and nodded. "Yeah, I know. I'd feel better about it if Sam would get his ass here though. I mean, if he's this late, he can't be feeling good about this." He shook his head. "He kicked me out of the room to get ready, and I just... I don't feel good about this. Maybe it's too soon. I pushed him."

"Seem to remember Sam being the one who asked you this afternoon." Steve smiled and ran an arm down Dean's bare arm, appreciating the physique of the man even as he worked to keep him calm and get him where they needed him. "He wants this. You want this. I KNOW Joe and I want this." He chuckled. "So relax. Let's go in and wait for him. I'm sure he wants to make an entrance."

Dean looked down the hall in the direction of their room and away. He took a deep breath and nodded. He needed to trust Sam, trust that his little brother knew what he wanted and was ready for this, that they both were. "Yeah, alright. So, sex dungeon?"

Steve swatted Dean playfully up the back of the head. "Playroom, jackass." He shook his head fondly and motioned Dean down the hall. "It's actually built off our suite. There'll be a few smaller ones for the club, but we wanted a place of our own."

Dean thought of the hidden space he had added to the weapons compartment in the trunk of his car; the place he kept his and Sam's small collection of 'toys' and grinned. "I can appreciate that."

"Here we go." Steve led Dean into his and Joe's suite and went to a door in the far wall. "Rules for the playroom the same as before. No kissing and only you have sex with Sam and me with Joe. Joe's safe word is tabernacle." He smirked when Dean laughed. "Yeah, I know, but it never fails to get my attention."

"Sam's is cherries." Dean plucked at the top of his leather pants and wiggled his bare toes in the carpet. "What'd you give Sam to wear? He wouldn't let me see before he kicked me out."

Steve wagged a finger and gave the door a nudge open. "That would be telling. Go on."

Dean chuckled and pushed the door in. He noticed right away as he entered that the walls had been sound-proofed. They were a dark oak, gleaming in the warm lights inset in the ceiling. The carpet was thick and soft under his feet and Dean stopped dead in his tracks with the sight that greeted him in the center of the room - his little brother. Sam knelt on the plush carpet with his knees spread wide, his head bowed and his arms behind his back. He was wearing a leather harness that swooped over his shoulders and up from beneath his arms above his pecs with a sturdy, metal ring above each nipple and a third in the center. Matching leather bands circled his wrists and biceps giving him the look of a gladiator, and the look was finished with black, leather chaps. They covered his long legs, hugging each curve of muscle deliciously but left his crotch exposed and the only thing Sam wore there was a cock ring and an elaborate twist of leather thongs that snaked around his testicles and the base of his cock like it was a Christmas present. Sam was half hard already and it made Dean's mouth water.

"Sammy?" Dean breathed the question into the room and only realized then that Steve had closed the door behind them, giving them a moment alone. He shook his head fondly knowing that he had been set up; this had been Sam's plan all along. He watched Sam raise his head to look at him. Dean frowned when Sam pulled his arms out from behind his back and it struck him; Sam wasn't wearing his collar. He opened his mouth to ask where it was, and then Sam was holding out his hands to his brother; the collar was draped across his palms like an offering to Dean.

"I trust you," Sam said softly and met his brother's green eyes with a small smile. "I need you, Dean."

Dean's throat closed with emotion and he swallowed hard, blinking furiously to dry his eyes as he moved toward his brother. "Sammy." Dean knelt slowly in front of him and put his hands over Sam's on the collar, letting their fingers slide together. He took the woven elephant hair out of Sam's palms and leaned forward to slide it against Sam's throat. Dean moaned softly when Sam tilted his head back and offered up his neck. He slowly and carefully pulled the collar into place, tying it back where it belonged and then slid his hands up into Sam's hair to tilt his head forward so he could see his eyes again. "Fucking love you, Sammy."

"Love you," Sam gasped before Dean crushed their mouths together. He hummed happily into the kiss while Dean tasted every inch of his mouth and sucked on his tongue.

Dean leaned back after a few minutes and smiled at the blissed out look on Sam's face. He leaned his forehead against his brother's for just a moment. "I'm sorry it took me so long to figure this out."

Sam slid his hands over Dean's arms and up to his shoulders. He tangled the fingers of one hand in the cord of his brother's amulet and gave it a pull. "Don't be sorry." He opened his eyes and gave Dean a smoldering look. "Make me scream your name."

"Fuck, Sammy." Dean curled his fingers in the collar and pulled Sam's head in to bite his bottom lip. He sucked it into his mouth and chewed at it until Sam whined and only then did Dean lean back with a satisfied smile. He stood, trailing his fingers up his brother's head and through his hair before he adjusted himself in his pants and went back to the door. "Gonna kill me."

Steve was waiting when Dean opened the door and grinned. "Worth the wait?"

Dean blew out a breath and nodded with a smirk. He moved back into the room and this time saw the rest of it around his brother. There was a St. Andrews Cross in the corner, various whips and floggers hanging on one wall, a tiered, glass topped shelf with a dizzying array of dildos, butt plugs and vibrators, and a shelving unit of leather cuffs, padded cuffs, handcuffs and ropes beside a wide bed. On the other side of the room stood a tall horse and Dean could just picture his brother strapped over it and begging; pictured it hard enough to have to adjust himself again and swallow hard.

Steve met Sam's eyes and smiled for the happy, if incredibly horny look, in them. He moved aside and let Joe trail him into the room. His lover was dressed much as Sam, though the harness adorning his chest was attached to his leather chaps and crossed in an 'x' between his nipples. He ran his fingernails lightly over Joe's chest as his lover passed and smiled at the shiver he earned. "With Sam, please."

Dean watched Joe drop beside his brother and both men knelt in the same position; knees wide to show off all that was on offer and their hands lightly resting on their thighs with the their heads bowed. "Fuck me. That's hot."

"It's going to get hotter," Steve promised and went to the tall cabinet beside the door. "The three of us had a lengthy discussion earlier. "I ran everything by Sam first and he gave his consent. He wanted me to make sure you know that."

"Oo-kay," Dean drawled and watched Steve go to Joe and his brother and stand behind them. "What does that mean?"

Steve smirked. "As you recall, our subs were a little naughty." He nodded when Dean began to grin and then held up what he'd taken from the cabinet.

Dean's mouth dropped open as he looked at the two ball gags dangling from Steve's hand and his cock gave a deeply interested twitch in his pants. He looked down at his brother, noting the slight tilt of Sam's head so he could see the gag and the way his brother's back shuddered slightly with his unsteady breathing. He let his gaze travel down Sam's chest and smiled again as he watched Sam's cock fill and rise just looking at the thing. He moved over and around his brother and took the gag from Steve's fingers.

"Oh, Sammy. I don't think you're gonna be walkin' by the time we're done," Dean said in a low voice.

Sam shivered with anticipation and tilted his head up, opening his mouth obediently. "Please, Dean?"

Dean took both sides of the gag and settled the ball into his brother's open mouth. He pulled the straps together at the back and fastened it, giving it a tug and slipping his fingers between the strap and Sam's head to be sure it wasn't too tight before he walked around in front of him. The sight of Sam kneeling with that red ball blocking his mouth; Sam's beautiful lips stretched around it, made Dean have to press the heel of his hand to his own dick. "Christ, Sammy. You should see yourself." He watched Sam's nostrils flare as he breathed heavily through his nose and smiled, stepping away. "Might just leave you like that and stare at you all night." Dean grinned as Sam's eyes widened.

Steve leaned down and tucked a piece of red cloth into Joe's left hand, and then another into Sam's right. "You remember the signal?" he asked both men and smiled when they nodded before moving away from them and over to Dean. "If at any point they want or need to stop, they drop the cloth. That's their safe word right now."

Dean nodded and felt relieved that Steve had set up a non-verbal cue for both men. "Now what do we do with them?"

Steve turned to look at both subs, letting his eyes rake over Joe and Sam until both men were shivering and then he moved behind Dean. "I think we should let them watch."

Dean sucked in a breath as Steve's hands slid around his sides to meet just above his belt buckle. He didn't miss the way Sam's eyes flew wide or how Joe looked to be biting down on the gag. Joe and Sam both had their eyes glued to Steve's hands on his stomach and Dean chuckled. He leaned back into Steve, met Sam's eyes, and licked his lips.

Sam groaned softly around the gag as he watched Steve's fingers pluck at Dean's belt buckle with one hand, while the other tickled across his brother's stomach and made the muscles ripple. He wanted to lick them, taste Dean's skin and feel the sound of his groan against his face. Watching Steve while he unbuckled Dean's pants and teased him as he did so was sweet torture.

Steve watched Joe's lust-dark eyes over Dean's shoulder and chuckled. He stepped back after a moment, leaving the buckle of Dean's belt swinging gently and smiled. "You know, Dean. Sam was telling me you're quite the pool shark." He smirked when Dean turned a surprised look to him. "We found a pool table when we were cataloging this place. I've never really had the chance to play much, but Sam insisted you could show me the ropes...so to speak." He dragged his nails down Dean's chest, over his right nipple and heard both Joe and Sam moan behind him. "What do you say, Dean? I'm sure the boys won't mind waiting for a bit."

"Pool, huh?" Dean slid a hand down Steve's back to cup it around the right cheek of his ass and heard the unmistakable sound of Joe whimpering. He gave a wolfish grin. "Oh, I think I can teach you a few positions. Have to make it interesting though."

"How's that?" Steve stepped into Dean and played just as dirty, pressing his thigh in against Dean's obvious hard on so the man grunted.

"We play for blow jobs." Dean licked his lips and sucked his bottom lip into his mouth. He let it out and enjoyed the way Steve's eyes were caught by the movement.

"Holy shit," Steve groaned and nodded. He dragged his eyes away from Dean's amazing lips, having no problem imagining them wrapped around his dick and met his gaze with a grin. "I really wish I was a better pool player right now."

Dean chuckled and looked past Steve to his brother. Sam was all but sucking on the ball gag with a desperate look in his eyes. "I think pool sounds like a great idea."

"Up, boys." Steve turned and motioned to Dean. Together, they helped Sam and Joe get to their feet.

Dean walked behind his brother as they followed Steve and Joe through another door. He chuckled seeing it was a game room. A dart board hung on the far wall, a poker table sat one side of the room, a wet bar on the other and in the middle stood a beauty of a pool table. "Guess the table wasn't the only toy you found, huh?"

Steve laughed. "Always did want a game room."

Dean led Sam to a point near the wall, noting the heavy pile carpeting in there as well with a smile. He moved into his brother and took a moment to indulge himself, sliding his hands around Sam's ribs and down his back over the exposed cheeks of his ass. Sam moaned around the gag, and Dean leaned in to lick around it.

Sam shivered and curled his fingers in the tops of Dean's leather pants, loose without his belt cinched to hold them in place. He fought the gag for a moment, wanting to kiss his brother, and then gasped around it when Dean's fingers closed in the strap at the back of his head and pulled. He was suddenly looking up at the ceiling with Dean's teeth raking down his throat. He whined as Dean pressed his hips into Sam's, leather rubbing along his cock and the tongue of the belt buckle digging into his hip.

Dean grinned against Sam's throat and stepped back after a minute. He watched his brother sway in a daze before Sam's eyes finally found his. "Knees, Sammy. Now."

Sam dropped like his strings had been cut and knelt there panting for breath around the gag, trying to get his breathing and pounding heart back under control. He looked up when Dean's fingers curled beneath his chin and tipped his face up.

"You ok, Sam?" Dean asked, rubbing his thumb across his brother's jaw below the gag.

Sam somehow managed a smile around the ball and nodded. He was better than ok. He held up the red fabric in his right hand and closed his fist tighter around it before putting it back on his knee.

Dean chuckled. "Good boy." He rose back to his feet and watched Joe kneel beside Sam, in much the same state as his brother. Dean licked his lips seeing the faint, red tracks of Steve's nails down Joe's chest. "Nice."

"He wouldn't stop snickering behind the gag," Steve said with mock severity. He carded his fingers through Joe's brown hair and smiled at him. He gave Joe a wink and then turned to Dean. "Shall we?"

Sam watched Dean setting up the balls, racking and sorting them with quick, deft movements and smirked. Steve was certainly about to get a lesson. He used the time as they set up and chatted softly over the table to settle until he was relaxed again back on the balls of his feet. He felt Joe's elbow brush his arm and flicked his eyes to the man. They're gazes met in a mutual appreciation and warm burn of lust. Sam looked back up and he would have outright drooled if not for the gag.

Dean took Steve's hips in his hands and bent him over the pool table. "Now, hold the cue like that. Yeah, that's it." He leaned down over Steve's back, molding his body to the man's and slid his hands up Steve's bare arms to his wrists where he took a gentle hold. He felt Steve's heart beating a tattoo through his back against his chest and grinned. "Pull it back slowly."

Steve rubbed his ass back against Dean's hips and glanced over at their boys. Both Sam and Joe were staring raptly, with lust darkening their eyes. He smiled and put his attention back on the cue while Dean's warm weight held him against the table. "Like this?"

"Now, you want to give the stick a good thrust." Dean nudged Steve's hips with his own and heard Sam and Joe both whine around the gags.

Steve chuckled and let the cue fly. It cracked loudly and the balls flew and bounced around the felt while Dean tugged him up and back against his chest. He enjoyed the feeling of being held against those muscles and the rough pads of Dean's fingers as they glided down his chest. "How was that?" he asked, a little breathlessly.

Dean chuckled and nipped at the back of Steve's shoulder. "Not bad for a beginner. But that's just the break. Let's see how you handle actually sinking a ball."

"Oh, I'm pretty good with balls," Steve quipped and grinned, hearing Joe's whimper in response.

Sam decided it was an exquisite sort of torture, watching his big brother manhandle Steve around the pool table, holding his hips, rubbing his cock in between shots, nibbling on his neck. He groaned along with Steve when Dean squeezed the man's cock through his pants and Steve bent to rest his head on the table and pant. He'd have been cussing if the gag weren't in his mouth. And every time, Dean would look over at him and raise a brow, as if daring him to call 'uncle' and beg. Sam was close. His cock was rock hard between his legs, trapped by the thong and the ring, and he had his own nails dug into his thighs. Joe wasn't doing much better beside him, but Sam could see him smiling around the gag.

"I think I've got it now," Steve said and straightened. He held his hand out for the pool cue and looked over the table.

"Couple more balls and you'll be on your knees," Dean said surely with a grin. He'd been cleaning the table with Steve, dragging the game out only for the benefit of making their boys whine.

Steve chuckled and put a hand on Dean's chest, giving him a nudge back. "I'll sink this one on my own." He glanced over at Joe and saw the smirk even with the gag, and the sparkle in his eyes that said he knew what was coming.

Dean shrugged and backed away, handing over the cue. "Try the five in the corner. That's your easiest shot."

"Thanks." Steve turned back to the table and bent down.

Dean watched him line up the shot with a smirk and crossed his arms over his chest. He nodded when Steve sank the five and moved on to another shot he was sure the man wouldn't make. He watched Steve, saw the ball bounce from one side of the table to the other in a perfect arc and knock three more balls into the pockets. His jaw dropped in shock. Dean could do nothing but watch as Steve effortlessly ran the table in minutes, sinking every ball with a skill that rivaled if not bettered Dean's own, until the man stood back at last and gave him a satisfied grin. Dean shook his head and blew out a breath.

"I can't believe it," Dean said and began to laugh. "You hustled me? How the hell did you do that?"

Steve laughed along with him and laid the cue on the table. "I've run a club for years. Of course I can shoot pool." He saw Joe roll his eyes and laughed again. "Alright, yes. I also once played professionally. Bored me to tears." He shrugged with a lopsided grin. "Not enough leather."

"Holy shit." Dean scrubbed a hand over his face and looked over, seeing Sam trying to laugh around the gag. He aimed a finger at him. "Shut it, you."

Sam made a half-hearted attempt to school his expression into something more suitably submissive, but his eyes still sparkled with silent laugher at seeing his oh-so-cocky pool shark of a brother out-hustled by a master.

Dean gave him a glare. "Remind me later we need to work on you not being inappropriately amused by me getting my ass handed to me at my own game."

Sam wasn't 100 percent sure whether that was Dean, his dom, threatening a fun punishment or Dean, his brother, threatening an old-fashion brotherly beatdown in the parking lot, but he was far to preoccupied to worry about it at the moment and smirked around the gag.

Steve waggled his brows at Dean and leaned back against the table. He spread his legs and flicked open the top button on his pants. "Looks like I won the bet."

Joe gave a long, heartfelt groan around the gag. He already knew what it felt like to have Dean's mouth around his cock. He couldn't wait to see the look on his lover's face.

Dean snorted a laugh at being so expertly played and walked the few feet to Steve. He went to his knees in front of the man with a feline grace and slid his hands up Steve's thighs. "Don't worry. I always keep my bets."

Steve watched Dean's nimble fingers tug his pants open. He sucked in a breath when Dean pulled out his cock, already hard from Dean teasing him during the game. He slid a bit lower against the table and made sure their boys had a clear view of what was happening. Sam looked a bit dazed and Joe looked avaricious, clearly wishing he were in Steve's place. "Wish this was you, love?" Steve asked him. He gasped when Dean suddenly sucked in the head of his dick and looked down to find those bottle green eyes staring up at him while Dean's incredibly soft, full lips stretched around his length. It blew his mind. "Oh... oh, fuck. Your lips. That should... fuck, that should be illegal!"

Dean hummed and took Steve to the back of his throat. He clamped his hands around the man's thighs when they began to tremble. He closed his eyes, savoring the moment. Though he was the one on his knees, he knew he had all the power there, and he was determined it was going to be one of the most mind-numbingly awesome blow jobs his friend had ever had.

"Oh, fuck me." Steve groaned and slid the fingers of one hand through Dean's soft, spiky hair. "That's... I can't..." His hips bucked forward without his permission. Rather than gag, Dean easily let his cock slip into his throat and back out again. Steve's eyes crossed and he hunched forward over him. "Fuck. Fuck." He was amazed at how dangerously close he was to coming already. He shuddered when Dean curled his tongue around him, grazed his teeth over the sensitive bundle of nerves under the head, and then sucked hard enough his cheeks hollowed.

"Fuck!" Steve fisted his fingers in Dean's short hair and pulled until the man's mouth came off with a filthy, wet 'pop'. Steve laughed, completely out of breath. "You are... WAY too good at that. Jesus."

Dean chuckled and got to his feet. He crowded into Steve's space, rubbing his leather pants against the man's wet cock so he moaned again and then looked over at the boys. Joe was practically vibrating, and Sam had a sheen of drool glistening on his chin as he feasted his eyes on them. "Think they've earned some action of their own yet?"

Steve worked at getting himself under control and nodded once he had. He shook his head in wonder and leaned in to nip at Dean's jaw. "I think I'd like to hear them scream our names, yeah."

"They do beg so pretty." Dean grinned at Sam and straightened up, giving Steve a chance to collect himself again. He palmed his own cock, willing it down from the painful hardness. Teasing Sam and Joe was a two-way street. It turned him on as much as it did them.

"Here or in the playroom?" Steve asked, studying both men on their knees as he walked to them and circled like a predator. He scraped his nails hard across their shoulders and necks as he went, making them shiver. When Steve went into full dom mode, it was an impressive performance to watch. It was little more than a subtle shift in the way he carried himself, but it just seemed to radiate from the man, as he moved around them. And both Joe and Sam seem to respond to it almost automatically, settling down from the playfulness of the moments before into more submissive postures, eyes lowered, and almost vibrating with anticipation.

Dean eyed his brother and smiled. "Playroom," he said in a soft voice. "Want Sam tied to that horse in there." He knew he made the right decision when Sam's eyes slammed closed and he shuddered in front of Dean with a loud moan. He helped his brother to his feet, letting his hand drag over Sam's cock before leading him out and back to the playroom.

Sam hummed in pleasure as they stood in the playroom and Dean pressed against his back. He leaned into the touch and rested his head against Dean while Steve pulled the padded horse out from the wall and settled it in the center of the room. He went willingly when Dean nudged him forward and knelt on the padded riser attached to it.

Dean ran his fingers around the gag in Sam's mouth and smiled. "Gonna take this out now. Think we can find something else to put in there."

Sam slammed his eyes closed again and shook hard with lust while he felt Dean's fingers unhooking the strap behind his head. He let Dean ease it out of his mouth, and then Dean's lips were there to lick and kiss. Sam dove into the kiss and locked his hands behind his brother's head to pull him in, desperate to have the contact after watching him play with Steve for so long. "Dean," he gasped needily.

Dean leaned back from his brother's mouth and savored the look on his face, Sam giving himself over to anything Dean would give him. "Bend over," he ordered hoarsely and watched as Sam bent himself over the top and stretched his arms down. The horse supported him at knees, hips, and chest, leaving him at perfect waist height. Dean ran a hand down Sam's back and over the cheeks of his ass and dropped a hard slap to one side. Sam yelped and then moaned, sinking down into the padding.

"Have I mentioned before that I love how much how loves that?" Steve asked. Lust was heavy in his voice as he bent and hooked the cuffs at Sam's biceps and wrists to the horse, securing him. He stood and pulled Joe to stand in front of Sam. "Almost as much as I love the noises you make for me."

Joe groaned loudly around the gag and nodded when Steve tapped it in a silent inquiry. He would have gladly kept it in another hour, had Steve wanted him to, but his jaw was beginning to ache and he sighed happily as his lover unhooked it and pulled it carefully out. "Thank you." He leaned into it when Steve kissed him and moaned when he felt his arms being secured behind him.

Steve stepped back and moved Joe until he was facing Sam. "You're not going to come until I say you can," he told Joe in a soft voice, whispering it as he leaned in to bite at his ear. "If you're very, very good, that'll be tonight."

Joe shuddered and licked his lips, looking down at Sam's dark head. "I'll be good."

Dean stepped back from Sam and went to the collection of floggers. He felt the tails on several and picked one just firm enough for Sam to really feel it but not do any damage, no matter how hard he let them fly. He picked it up and trailed the tails over Joe's shoulders before letting them thump into Sam's back. "Sammy?"

"Yes, yes, yes," Sam begged and arched his back even as he stretched his head out and managed to lick the side of Joe's erect cock in front of his face.

"Oh, fuck," Joe moaned and nodded furiously as Steve nudged him forward the last couple inches to Sam's face.

"Suck him, Sam." Dean checked his brother's right hand and saw he was still holding the red cloth. "You drop that if you need to breathe, ok?" He placed a kiss on his brother's shoulder when Sam nodded happily and let out a moan of his own as Sam willingly opened his mouth and sucked Joe's cock in. "So damn hot, baby boy."

Sam suckled the head of Joe's cock. He felt the shiver work through the man and heard the broken moan as he sucked Joe in until his nose was buried in the soft curls at the base. He yelled around Joe's length when the first flash of pain/pleasure from the flogger whipped across his ass.

"God!" Joe shouted and strained his arms against the cuffs. He wanted to grab fistfuls of Sam's hair and hold on. He looked down a little frantically as Sam hollowed his cheeks and shouted around him again and again as Dean flogged him. The visual was enough to make his eyes cross and make him very glad of the ring around his cock.

Dean let a particularly hard volley of the flogger's straps land and smiled at the red lines that instantly sprung up across the skin of Sam's backside. He looked up and watched Steve pick up a small, leather-covered paddle and step behind Joe. He grinned and waited. A moment later, there was a loud slap. Joe shouted; his head dropped back and his hips thrust forward into Sam. Dean looked down, but Sam's right fist was still clenched tightly around the cloth and he heard his little brother gag a little and then moan, even as he wiggled his ass in front of Dean.

"Oh, you like that, Sammy?" Dean asked in a gravelly voice and whipped him again with the flogger while Joe was driven into his mouth again by Steve. He saw his brother's throat working and chuckled. "You tryin' to make him come early, Sam? Naughty."

Joe was pulled between the two sensations; the paddle warming his ass with a perfect blend of pain and pleasure and Sam's hot mouth and that devilish tongue of his sucking like he was trying to get Joe's brain out his cock. "Oh, fuck!" Joe shouted and felt his orgasm rushing up on him with each strike, each howl of Sam's muffled cries around his flesh, and he didn't think the cockring was going to be enough to stop it. "Tabernacle! Oh, shit. Fuck! Tabernacle!"

Steve let the paddle fall and pulled Joe back until his cock was free and his lover was leaning against his chest and trembling as he gasped. He held him gently and smiled, placing a kiss on his throat above the wide, black collar. "Checking in, baby. What do you need?" he asked, because sometimes Joe didn't want to actually stop; he just needed to slow down for a bit.

Joe panted and whined, rubbing his sensitive ass against Steve's crotch. "Was gonna... gonna come. Fuck, he's as good as Dean. Oh, God."

Steve chuckled and looked up to meet Dean's eyes. He smiled, watching the man soothe his hands up and down his brother's back while Sam's head hung between his shoulders, gasping. "So good for me, baby." He turned Joe's head and kissed him soundly, soothing him with his hands until his heart rate calmed a bit.

"You good, Sammy?" Dean asked as he leaned his body against his brother's back over the horse. Sam gave him a nod and Dean ran his hands down his arms to wrists. "Still comfortable?"

"Yes, Dean," Sam said in a hoarse voice and turned his head, angling for a kiss, sighing happily when he got one. He could still feel the skin of his backside stinging from Dean's blows and knew he was going to be feeling them for a day or more every time he sat down or moved in his jeans. He loved it. "Not done yet."

Dean laughed softly into Sam's throat and slid his hands under his brother's shoulders, and across his chest to pinch his nipples. "Didn't think you were, Sammy."

Sam gasped, moaning, and writhed into the sensation while Dean's fingers firmly rolled his nipples and then scraped down his sides. "Fuck."

"Soon," Dean promised and leaned back.

"Kneel for us, babe." Steve helped Joe lower himself to the soft floor and ran his fingers through the dark brown locks. "Your turn. I know how much you love having to something to suck on while I open you up."

"Oh, fuck," Joe groaned and closed his eyes with a smile.

"Yeah. Get your mouth on Sam." Steve unbuckled his lover's arms so he could support himself.

Sam smiled when Joe nuzzled along his jaw before he crawled beneath Sam's chest. "Shit," he moaned as he felt a warm rush of hot air from Joe's mouth and then a wet tongue licked around the head of his cock.

"Trade you places?" Dean asked with a grin, remembering how Steve had wanted to feel Sam squirming on his fingers and how they had been rudely interrupted the first time around.

"Oh, hell yes." Steve smiled broadly and stood. He went to the cabinet and took out two small tubes of lube, brought one to Dean and handed it to him. "He's very sensitive until you get him warmed up."

Dean nodded seriously and moved to kneel behind Joe. He brushed his hand over the red skin of Joe's ass, earning a shiver and moan. "Don't worry, Joe. I've got you." He looked up and met Sam's ever more frantic gaze with a smile. "This alright, Sammy?"

Sam nodded furiously. "Yes, yes. God, y-yes." He stuttered when he felt Steve brush his fingers between the cheeks of his ass and gave a loud, guttural groan when nails scraped over the flogged skin.

"That's my boy," Dean said fondly. He opened the tube and drizzled some on his fingers while he bent a little to watch Joe sucking his brother's cock. It was hot as hell seeing another man swallowing Sam's impressive length, and Joe was doing a damn good job at it if Sam's continuous shivers were anything to go by.

Sam tugged at his restraints, enjoying the sensation and whined when Steve pushed a slick finger into him. "Oh, yes." He dropped his head to watch Dean and stuttered out a groan with Joe humming around his cock and Steve thrusting that finger into him sharply, just the way he liked it. His entire body shook hard when he felt Steve's tongue join his fingers, licking around his rim and he looked at Dean desperately.

"Soon, Sammy," Dean promised in a gruff voice and slid his own fingers into Joe. He closed his eyes with the sensation of Joe's inner walls squeezing around his fingers. He heard Joe's moan and felt it where they were connected. Dean soothed his free hand up and down Joe's back as he twisted his fingers inside him, seeking.

"Little down and to the left," Steve said softly over Sam's shoulder as he rose up and wiped his mouth. He grinned at Dean.

Dean thrust his fingers deeper into Joe, following Steve's directions and chuckled as the man shouted around his brother's cock and nearly collapsed. "There it is."

"Fuck. Oh, fuck," Sam groaned and let his head fall. The leather thong and cock ring were all that kept him from coming right then. He stuttered out a whine while Joe's lips clamped around him and his teeth grazed up Sam's length, while at the same time Steve's fingers rubbed around and around his sweet spot. He was close to vibrating with the overwhelming desire to come. "Dean, please. Please." He yelled as Steve pressed mercilessly on his prostate and Joe deep throated him.

Dean slid a hand up Joe's back to his neck and around his chin. He shivered, feeling Joe's mouth working Sam's cock and felt the moisture of tears on his cheeks and smiled. He looked up to Steve and saw an understanding gleam in his eye and the same desperation Dean was feeling himself to be inside his lover. "Think they've earned it."

"Oh, and then some." Steve slid his fingers out of Sam. He pinched one of the welts on his ass in parting, enjoying the whimper Sam gave him for it.

Dean dropped a kiss between Joe's trembling shoulder blades and stood, trading places with Steve. He tunneled his fingers through Sam's hair and used his other hand to spank Sam soundly twice on each cheek of his ass until his brother was reduced to desperate, incomprehensible pleas. Dean hastily opened his leather pants, shoving them down enough to free his cock.

"Dean. Dean. Dean." Sam panted his brother's name in a haze of lust while he watched Steve line himself up with Joe's ass. "Oh, God. Oh, fuck, please."

"Shh. I gotcha, Sammy." Dean slicked himself, took hold of Sam's hips, and pressed into his brother in one long, quick slide that left Sam howling and shaking. He stopped and looked over to see Steve buried to the hilt inside of Joe. Joe himself had his hands fisted around Sam's at the base of the horse, like they were holding each other together in the storm of pleasure. He saw Steve try to pull Joe away from his brother's cock but Joe stubbornly stayed where he was and whined in protest until Steve let him settle back.

Steve chuckled breathlessly as he dragged slowly out of Joe. "Likes... to have something... to suck on when he comes. Fuck!"

Dean groaned as Steve slammed back in and followed his lead, fucking his little brother hard and fast. "Feel so good, Sammy. Fuck, so damn tight still. God!"

Sam was beyond words. There was just too much happening; Dean fucking him, Joe sucking his cock like he was going to force Sam to come even around the cock ring, Steve fucking Joe in front of him and the sounds it was driving from Joe's mouth around him. Steve's fingers reached out to catch in his hair and pulled sharply, tugging his head up so that his eyes met Steve's looking down at him. Steve held his gaze for a long moment, enjoying the growing desperation in those hypnotically exotic hazel eyes.

Dean slid a hand around his brother's hip. His own orgasm was barreling down on him after being so long denied while watching and listening to Sam and Joe. "Gonna come for Sammy?" he asked while he panted into Sam's ear. He found the tie for the leather thong and gave it a tug, letting it slip loose around Sam's balls. Then he found the catch on the cock ring with his thumb. He shivered as Joe's tongue licked across his fingers and curled under the ring for a second. "Scream for me, baby boy."

Sam barely had time to catch his breath before Dean flicked the cock ring open. He heard his voice filling the room in a howl of pleasure, felt Joe screaming around his cock as Steve let him come at the same time, felt Dean's hips slam into his and then the feeling of Dean filling him up and the world tunneled down in a spiral of bright light and a monumental orgasm.

Dean held on to Sam while his brother shook himself apart under him. "Sam!" He shouted his name while Sam's voice screamed Dean's into the air. He curled down over Sam and bit into his neck as he came, filling his little brother up and moaning into his flesh. Dean had no idea how long it was before he finally lifted his head and looked blearily around. He found Steve blinking in a bit of a daze and watched the man slowly grin.

"Fuck," Steve groaned softly. He eased himself gently out of Joe and pulled his lover back carefully, sitting on the plush carpet and settling him between his legs with his back against his chest. He carded Joe's long, brown hair out of his face and smirked. "He's out cold."

Dean chuckled and placed a soft kiss over the mark he had sucked into his brother's neck. "Sam too." He rolled his hips and slipped slowly out of Sam in a rush of his own come. Dean smoothed his hands down his brother's arms and unhooked him from the horse, freeing Sam before rolling him gently into his chest and cradling him there. Dean snorted a laugh and scooped his brother's legs up.

"Oh, just use the bed there." Steve waved a hand to the king size bed in the corner with a smile. "Beats the hell out of trying to get him across the house and back to your own room. Really should have put you guys next door."

Dean laughed softly at that and carried Sam to the bed, grunting under his weight before he settled him on the comforter. "Bathroom?"

"That door there." Steve pointed and bent to place a soft kiss on Joe's lips before looking up. "The door on the other side of the bathroom lets out near the kitchen."

"Good to know. Might have to feed his sasquatch ass after this." Dean smiled and started for the door. He turned back and gave Steve a lopsided grin. "Need any help getting him into bed?"

"Naw, I got this." Steve got his knees under him and stood, dragging Joe up with him and propped the man against his chest. "He's in there somewhere, enough to stumble into our room if I lead him."

Dean laughed, watching as Steve started walking and Joe sluggishly moved one leg after the other. He shook his head fondly and ducked into the bathroom. He cleaned himself up quickly, stripping completely out of the leather pants and was back at the bed with a damn cloth for Sam before his brother even began to stir.

"Hey, Sammy." Dean eased the covers out from under him and quickly wiped Sam down. He tossed the washcloth aside and went to a little refrigerator he had spied in the corner. He smiled, finding it stocked with gatorade bottles and grabbed one, then went back to the bed and climbed in with his brother. He slouched, sitting against the headboard and leaned Sam back against him. "Come on, little brother. Time to come back to me." Dean rubbed his knuckles lightly over Sam's jaw and down his throat to his collar where he pressed his hand lightly over it. "Sammy."

"Mmm," Sam hummed and slowly swam back up out of the pleasure-haze he had sunk into. He smiled, feeling Dean's hands running over him lovingly and turned his head to nuzzle against his jaw. "Mmm. Love you."

Dean laughed softly and tilted Sam's head back. "Love you too, Sammy." He kissed him and smiled when Sam finally pulled back and opened his eyes. Dean's own went wide and a little wet when Sam brought his right hand up and offered it to Dean; he still had hold of the red scrap of cloth.

"Trust you, Dean. Always," Sam whispered. He rolled into his brother and wrapped his arms around him.

Dean held onto the cloth for a moment, blinking furiously until he had himself under control, and then set it aside reverently. He put his face into Sam's sweaty hair and breathed deep, as always, in awe of how Sam trusted and loved him, even after something like the cambion when he should have by rights been flinching from him in fear. "I ever tell you how awesome you are, Sammy?"

Sam smiled at the gruff, yet emotional tone of Dean's voice and kissed the hollow of his throat. "Once or twice."

"You're awesome." Dean sniffed once and raised his head. "Hey, drink some of this before you pass out on me."

Sam took the gatorade bottle Dean rescued from the covers and thirstily drank half of it down before handing it back. He settled more heavily into Dean, feeling the aches in his body. He felt wonderfully, lovingly used and cared for and let out a long sigh of contentment. "Thank you."

Dean shifted and shuffled down into the blankets so they were both comfortable and wrapped his arms around Sam. He smirked. "You know what we have to do when we leave here?"

"Hmm?" Sam asked absently, already feeling sleep starting to come claim him.

Dean tickled his fingers beneath Sam's collar. "Gotta go face Bobby." He felt the moment the words registered in the sudden tension in his brother's body.

"Oh." Sam swallowed hard, suddenly wide awake. "Oh, fuck."

"Oh, yeah." Dean nodded but he was smiling. He still couldn't believe that Bobby not only knew about them but accepted them, and had long before they'd known. It was like a damn miracle.

"Maybe we can move to Alaska?" Sam lifted his head and looked at Dean. "Timbuktu? Gotta be something to hunt there."

Dean laughed and pulled Sam back down, kissing him before he rolled his brother's head under his chin. "Gotta face the music, Sammy. Maybe he won't humiliate us too bad."

Sam snorted in disbelief. "Dude, it's Bobby. He's gonna have our room hung with condoms before we get back there and be sneaking dildos into the Impala's trunk just to screw with us every time we turn around!"

Dean let out a belly laugh at that and hugged Sam tight. "Yeah, he probably will." And he was looking forward to every second of it.

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_The End._


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